


The End of the World

by tuliptoes



Series: The Leftovers AU [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Leftovers Fusion, Angst, F/M, but soft moments too, memory of incest, recovering from trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-07 19:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuliptoes/pseuds/tuliptoes
Summary: Welcome to the end of the world!This is a mashup of a GOT modern AU and The Leftovers.If you haven't seen the show, the premise is that out of the blue, 2 percent of the world population just vanished, never to be seen again. The show (which I highly recommend because it's incredible acting/writing/directing and it nails the ending) starts with Departure Day, then picks up three years later.As I was writing it, I realized that I was working through my feelings on Season 8 in this story; if a story can be a fix-it and not a fix-it, I think this is it.I poured my heart and soul into this piece, hope you enjoy it.Update: My lovely cover designed by Ro_Nordmann!!!





	1. Then in your hands, I will be free

**Author's Note:**

> The chapter title is from "It's Only Time" by The Magnetic Fields, one of their truly great romance songs. 
> 
> My husband dropped a lyric into his wedding vows, and my heart swooped.

**July 2018**

It was the end of the world.

Jaime looked off the edge of the cliff and felt a thrill of fear go through him, and he smiled, it was like seeing an old friend after a long separation.

_ Jump, jump and go home. _

That’s what they’d told him. If you jump off the cliff at the end of the world, you’ll hit the ocean, and you’ll be reborn on the other side.

_ With them _

He saw them in his mind again, that day forever burned into his brain. His father, hard and cross, but Jaime liked to imagine he was happy to be with his children. Jaime could squint at his memory and almost see the old bastard’s eyes twinkling and a hint of a smile on his thin lips.

Tyrion was laughing, with them or at them, he didn’t care. Tyrion was never more handsome as when he was laughing, and he’s been in a state that day. He laughed, and Cersei scowled, and he laughed more, and the cycle just repeated.

_ Cersei _

She was golden in his mind, but he knew it wasn’t true. It had been morning, the light wasn't shining in the dining room, but in his mind, the light surrounded her golden hair, making her green eyes sparkle. She scowled at Tyrion, but she smiled at Jaime, always smiled at him. She loved him best, always would love him best at that moment.

Jaime took his shoes off, his socks too. He pulled his shirt over his head, and he felt the chill in the air, but it was alright, the cold was alright because it was the only way to his family.

_ ‘Stay, stay, stay _

_ I've been lovin' you for quite some time, time, time’ _

He heard the song in the wind, in the rustle of the nearby trees and his chest ached at the lyrics. 

He had left her with cruel words and nothing else.

_ Selfish, coward, fool _

She’d never understand, he liked to tell himself that, but he knew that was a lie. He couldn’t make her understand if he couldn’t. He didn’t want to go, it was true, but he wanted to go too, and that was also the truth.

Truth, lies, what did any of it matter when his family was just a leap away.

_ ‘But I think that it's best if we both stay’ _

No, he thought, and the wind stopped. 

_ Let her be free of me for good _

He took off his pants, and he waited.

The alarm buzzed. 

He had one minute to jump. 

He stared at the ocean as the alarm buzzed. 

He crouched down, his old muscles aching at the command but still obedient.

_ ‘But I think that it's best if we both stay’ _

He had been given a choice and finally, right here, he had to choose.

His heart started to race as the beeping in his phone accelerated. 

He chose.

He ran.

**December 2016**

He handed her a bundle, but she could feel two books in there and she playfully scowled at him.

“Jaime, we agreed, one present,” she said with a sigh. He waved off her objection.

“One wasn’t enough for you Freckles.” He leaned over to kiss her, but she dodged him. “One is never enough.”

She blushed at his words, but still, she bent away from him. “Won’t even follow a simple rule, what am I to do with you?”

She kissed him on his temple then and unwrapped the gift and two books fell out of the box. She picked up the hardcover, and she gasped as she ran her fingers over a first edition of “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Open it,” he told her, and she gently pulled the cover open and saw his signature on the page, with a dedication to Gerold.

Her eyes widened as she looked as him, his eyes sparkling in the firelight. “Gerold?”

“My great-grandfather was a fan too. We’ve had this book for a while, and I know you love him.”

She felt an urge to give it back, she couldn’t just take this treasure from him, but instead she held the book to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, and she kissed him again.

He handed her the other book, an old paperback, “The Duke who Vanished” that she recognized immediately. “Did you give me my own book?” she asked with a teasing note in her voice.

“Open it,” he said with a smirk.

She did, and her eyes went wide at the new inscription.

_ Brienne, _

_ Your young man asked me for this favor, with the promise that his lady love would keep buying my books into eternity. _

_ Keep reading, and keep loving that adorable fool_

_\- Constance Olsen_

“But this can’t be real, she never gives interviews or makes appearances, she’s written about her social anxieties, but she wrote my name, how did she know my name?”

He kissed her then, and she felt her heart settle in her chest. “I know her editor, and she put me in touch as long as I promised it would be a one time thing. And I wanted to get you something that would take effort.”

He kissed her again, and she nearly melted into him. “And it’s real, I was standing over her as she wrote it. Charming woman, she told me if we didn’t work out I could come back.”

He laughed, and Brienne laughed with him. Her favorite author, hitting on boyfriend, was clearly the most absurd Christmas present she’d ever had.

She held them both to her chest, afraid to let them go, afraid they would vanish if she let them out of her sight. But she set them next to her and grabbed Jaime’s present and handed it to him.

“Your turn.”

He opened the box carefully, prolonging her excitement but he couldn’t hide his own disappointment.

Her face fell as she saw a pained look cross his brows, but he fixed a smile on his face when he looked up at her. “Thanks” was all he said as he held the e-reader she’d bought for him.

“Give it here,” she said and he handed it over, not looking at her. 

She turned it on, fiddled with some settings as she scooted closer to him. “Look,” she said as she pointed at the screen and her followed her hands. “You can set up the books however you want.” 

She held her breath for a second before diving in. “You can increase the spaces between lines as much as you need, and the spaces between letters too.”

He took the e-reader from her, still silent. 

“I’ve bought you some books too. The Dayne biography, a history of boxing, and a romance novel.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Just in case,” she said with a grin.

He was still playing with the settings a minute later, but she saw the tears in his eyes. “Do you like it?” she whispered, suddenly afraid of what she’d done.

“I love it,” he said. “I love you.”

She blushed deeply, but she didn’t say anything. What could she say?

“How did you know?” he asked. 

“I saw you, when we went to Barnes & Noble. You picked up that Dayne book, and you almost threw it back when the words wouldn’t stay in place.”

He nodded, he remembered too.

She watched him play with the settings until they were right and he started reading the Dayne book, and she didn’t want to ask, but she suspected it was the first book he’d read since school. She saw the tears in his eyes, but she stayed silent as his eyes passed over the pages.

“You’re the only one,” he said. “You’re the only one who didn’t laugh.”

He reached for her hand, and squeezed.

She squeezed back. 

**October 2016**

“Do you remember them?” he asked her, his voice soft in case she had fallen asleep.

“Who?” Brienne answered back as she looked at him, her arms still wrapped around his bare chest.

“Your mother, your sisters.”

Her face scrunched, like she was trying to pry the memories out of a locked chest in her mind, but she gave up and shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I have this image in my mind of my mother on the beach, a baby in her arms, and she looked down at me and smiled, but it’s just a flash. And it’s yellow, and I don’t think it’s real anyway.”

She put her head on his chest, stroking the sensitive skin under his arm. 

“Do you want to talk about them?” she asked, holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

“No,” he whispered. Four years, and he still felt the ache in his chest at their loss.

“Are you lying?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

**August 2016**

“Why do you read those?”

Brienne was curled up in her favorite arm chair, and the afternoon sun was keeping the room toasty, just like she liked it. What she didn’t like at the moment was Jaime, annoying her because he was bored.

“Hmmm,” she said, trying to get back to her book, trying to immerse herself again.

“Aren’t they all the same?” he said again, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It’s what he wanted, to get a reaction from her, for her to pay attention to him, and dammit, she fell for it.

“You mean like how every basketball game is the same?”

She looked at him holding one of her books, and he looked at the cover curiously. Hyle would tease her too, but with barely hidden scorn. Jaime looked up at her and gave her a small smile.

“I see your point, but seriously though, what’s the fun in a book with no surprises? I mean, they all end the same.”

She sighed, a rough, exasperated sigh, and stood up from her chair, towering over him. “They are the only genre that has a true sense of justice.”

He stood then too, looking her in the eyes, wanting to get a rise out of her. “Justice? Bodice rippers are about justice?”

He was teasing, she knew that, she could see the twinkle in his eye, but she couldn’t play with him. All she saw was a long line of people in her life, laughing at her.

“Yes,” she nearly yelled at him. He jumped, but he didn’t back away from her. “Yes, justice. The assholes. Don’t. Win.” 

She held up her book to him, inches from his face. “This woman is being tormented by her creepy stepfather, and her boyfriend wants to protect her, and here, he will. They will find a way to make him pay, and he will be punished, and they will get to live happily together forever.”

She was breathing heavy, and she could feel the tears in her eyes. “They don’t get to win,” she whispered, not looking at him as she walked to her room and sunk down into her bed, burrowing herself under her blanket.

She heard him walk in the room, and she scooted over so he could lie next to her. He pulled her to him, his arm wrapped around her torso, holding her tight, just like he likes to be held.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what they meant to you.”

She nodded. She knew too, he hadn’t understood, no one really understood. She turned to face him, and she saw that he meant it, he was sorry for upsetting her.

“We should go for a swim,” he said, with a wicked look in his eye. “I own the hotel, I can make them clear the pool for us.”

She laughed at him, but instead she clung to him, letting him hold her. 

“Or we could stay here, just like this,” he said softly, and she nodded.

**October 2012**

It was a normal day at his father’s house.

_ My house someday _

Tyrion and Cersei were both stewing about that, but what could he do. His father could leave them whatever he wanted, and gods know why, he wanted Jaime to have his penthouse.

He didn’t want it. He told his father that over and over, but the bastard nodded and grimaced and then pretended Jaime had never spoken up.

Tywin had updated his will this week; Jaime got the penthouse, he, Tyrion and Cersei split the inheritance three ways, Jaime got 51 percent of the Tywin’s stocks, Cersei 30 percent and Tyrion 19 percent.

_ Father of the year _

Tyrion tried to mask his hurt at the news, but he was still so young, just 22. And Cersei, well, she didn’t try to hide anything, but her anger just made Tywin distance himself even more. 

_ This is your legacy old man, emotionally crippled adults who will never know how to behave, way to go. _

Jaime got up from the table, disgusted with his father but annoyed too at his siblings’ sniping. Once a month they met for this breakfast, and it was always like this, but thankfully, it did provide just the fuel he needed in the ring.

He looked down as his hands, his bruised knuckles and fading cuts, and he smiled. 

_ At least I have that. They can’t touch that. _

He was smiling and thinking of his upcoming bout, his first, nothing flashy, just a practice match to see how he would fare against a real opponent, when he heard the nothing.

That’s what he called it later, the nothing. They were there, his father was breathing heavily, clearly getting angry at his children, and Tyrion and Cersei kept arguing about something unimportant to mask the real fight they wanted to have with their father, and then nothing.

Jaime jumped at the silence, and turned back to the table, and they were gone.

**November 2012**

_ How did I get here? _

Jaime stared at the box on the shelf, champagne glasses, and he couldn’t remember. He looked at his feet, and saw the snow still on his boots, and his hands were icy, he must have walked and forgotten his gloves.

He looked around, saw the other shoppers, but he wasn’t even sure what type of store this was. Certainly one he’d never been in; this for a place for the masses, not for a _ Lannister. _

He heard his father’s voice in his head, most of the world was not fit for a Lannister, and now the world was considerably freer of a number of them.

He looked at the box again, and he recognized them. Not really, they weren’t the ones his father had, but they looked close enough.

_ Did they disappear too? _

Without another thought, he grabbed the box and opened it. He had to see, were there eight in there, or only seven?

_ If there are seven, the world will make sense again. I know it will, it will make sense. _

But there were eight in the box. As the universe demanded, there were eight, not seven.

He felt an icy hand grip his chest, and he felt his breath cut off. He dropped the box, and he heard the glass break, but it meant nothing, nothing meant anything anymore.

He clutched his chest as he fell to the floor, trying his hardest to suck in any air, but none came. He watched the people around him as the sound faded from his ears. He saw people scurrying, saw footsteps running from him, and he closed his eyes.

_ Let this be it. Let me go with them _

“Jaime Lannister,” she whispered as she placed a hand on his back. “You need to breathe.”

He knew the voice, but couldn’t place it, his brain was too consumed with its need for air. She rubbed his back through his shirt, and he held his focus there, feeling the warmth in her hands and she gave him a rhythm to follow, guided him back to life.

He looked at her and saw Catelyn Stark, Ned Stark’s wife. She didn’t smile at him, never at him since he’d turned down a date with her sister, but she was kind to all, even someone she despised.

“Can you get up?” she said as she pulled her hand back from him. He nodded and stood up, looking down at her cold brown eyes.

She sighed at him, but a hint of warmth came into her cheeks. “Do you need a ride home?”

He couldn’t speak yet, so he nodded. Her eyes fell to the box at his feet. “Going to pay for that?” she asked, with a hint of mocking in her voice, but he loved it. Anything to feel normal again.

“I guess so,” he croaked, his voice harsh to his own ears. She winced at the sound but picked up the box for him. “Take this to customer service, and I’ll meet you there.”

He paid for the broken glasses, but refused to take it home, like the box was burning his skin. Catelyn ushered him to her car, and mercifully she had left the children at home today.

He’d known her for years, her husband was the best friend of Cersei’s husband, and they would spend at least one holiday at one family home or another. They never cared for each other, but they loved people who did, so they tolerated each other. And the kids could play together, so what else mattered after that?

Of course, he had heard about Ned. With five children, you would think one of them would have been taken, but no, their father vanished from his yard while playing with their daughter.

And everyone knew his story. LANNISTER DEVASTATION had been the headline, and he’d laughed when he’d read it, a laughter torn from his body that left blood trails in its wake.

Not one branch of his family tree had been left untouched. His Uncle Gerion, his favorite, his cousins Lancel and Cleos, his aunt’s husband, even his nephew Tommen, all gone.

He remembered Tommen’s face last Christmas, when Cersei finally relented and got the boy the kittens he’d been pining for, and Jaime had never known then if he’d ever see such joy again.

The kittens were dead within a fortnight, courtesy of his careless older brother who left them outside, and the boy had been inconsolable, but the joy was what Jaime kept in his mind. 

_ That’s what I’ll remember for you. _

Catelyn coughed, and he looked at her, and she looked ten years older, even though she was just a few months younger than him. She looked run down, worn out even, and he wondered what that ache would feel like while trying to care for a brood of children.

“Are you still at the Rock?” she asked.

His father’s hotel, the finest piece of his legacy. It towered over the city and let him look down on his lessers, like the kings of old. 

“Yes,” he whispered. Jaime had his own place, a little house across town, but he’d moved into the Rock for now. There, he could hope they would come back where they disappeared. There, he could pretend they were still here, that they had never left him, that they were in another room in Tywin’s enormous penthouse suite.

She pulled up to the hotel entrance and unlocked his door without looking at him. 

He wanted to say something to her, something meaningful, something comforting, but he didn’t have the words for a phenomenon that didn’t even have a name yet. 

And he knew what he really wanted then too, he wanted her to hold him like a mother, and let him cry in her lap and tell him that everything will be alright, her comforting words blocking out the obvious lie.

“Thank you,” was all he said as left her car. She looked at them, her face filled with concern as she pointed to his hand.

“Get someone to look at that,” she said as she drove away.

**First date**

They arrived separately. Brienne insisted she wanted her own ride home, in case he got too drunk to drive them.

He laughed at that, he understood he told her, even as he assured her his drunken exploit was a one-time thing.

_ The Dragon’s Egg _ was an old restaurant, older than either of them and known for only catering to the wealthy.

It would be impossible for Brienne to get a reservation by herself; even a family as old as the Starks would have a hard time finding their way in.

But as she arrived, a little flustered at the surroundings, he smiled and stood as she entered the lobby. She had tried to dress up for this, and she could tell that’s what she looked like; her skirt was fine, her shirt was fine, and she’d even made her hair slightly curly, but she looked like a woman who_ tried _.

He looked like a man who didn’t even have to try, and he’d still be as gorgeous as a god.

He nodded to the waiter.

“Your usual table, Mr. Lannister.”

Jaime took her hand, just like it was nothing, an everyday gesture from a gorgeous man to someone like her.

His table was in the back, a dark corner, away from the hubbub of the other tables, with a low-light lamp to give them a hint of atmosphere.

“Your table?” Brienne said, with an eyebrow raised.

“The Lannister name does have its perks.”

Another waiter arrived with water glasses and discreetly dropped off menus. Brienne picked one up, and a cold feeling took over her inside.

“There’s no prices,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Order whatever you like,” he said with a smile. “You did me a tremendous favour, and I owe you.”

Brienne had come, she wasn’t going to spoil things with her frugal mindset, but she still blanched when it came time to order. This bill would probably be half her rent at least.

“Would you like a drink?” he said as he passed her the wine menu. She gave him a look. “Don’t worry, I have my driver.”

She laughed, and he laughed too. She ordered a glass of champagne, treating herself she said.

After they ordered, a silence settled over the table that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

“What do you do, Mr. Lannister?” she nearly winked at him, but she held back.

“Do?” he said.

“To fill your time, when you’re not just being rich and handsome.” She blushed at her own words, the champagne had already loosened her tongue a bit.

“So you think I’m handsome?”

He raised his eyebrows at her, and she couldn’t help it, she started giggling, not laughing, giggling, like a little girl.

“Answer the question, please,” she said, trying to get herself to stop laughing at his ridiculous antics.

He sighed as his face fell. “I don’t do a whole lot, but I’m the head of a foundation.”

“You’re not at Lanniscorp?”

He shook his head. “After,” he said as his voice trailed just a second. “I inherited my father’s and my brother’s shares in the company, but I sold the majority stake to my uncle Kevan, who took over.”

He took a drink as his face paled a bit. 

“What does your foundation do?” she whispered, not sure if he really wanted to talk about this, but she couldn’t stop herself tonight, from anything.

“We solicit donations and then gift the money to people who were left financially weakened after Departure Day.”

Her eyes widened at his words; she’d never expected that response. 

“Wow,” she said. “Wow.”

“Have I shocked you?” he said with a light tone in his voice. “Did you expect something more like amatuer boxer?”

“Am I a terrible person if I say yes?”

He nodded solemnly. “But don’t worry, I was that too for a while, so you’re off the hook.”

She shook her head at this beautiful man, a man she expected nothing from, who kept surprising her.

“How does the foundation work?”

“Anyone affected can apply, but it’s not intended for the well off. As an example, if I applied, I would rightfully be rejected. But if you’re approved, we pay you what your life insurance would have paid, or what they would have paid, if you’d had it.”

“Wow,” she repeated. “Was that your idea?”

He nodded. “Although it was my brother who inspired it.”

“Your brother?” Brienne was discovering just how full of mysteries this man was. 

_ Did Catelyn know this about him? Did anyone? _

“Before the departure, he had a girlfriend that he didn’t tell anyone about, and she was pregnant when he disappeared.”

He took a drink, she could see the flush in his cheeks, but it was only wine. “She came to see me with their daughter, not asking for money, she’s too proud for that, but she wanted some mementos of his, something to show the girl when she asked about her father.”

He swirled his wine in the glass, watching the red liquid cover the insides before putting it down and reaching for the water.

“I did both,” he said. “I gave her the money from Tyrion’s shares in the company, because he would have wanted her to have that, and I gave her nearly everything Tyrion had left behind.”

He looked at her, this deep sadness in his eyes. She wanted to reach out to him, to hold his hand, to hold him and free him of the weight he carried.

But instead she looked away, giving him a minute to collect himself before she looked at him again. His smile was back in place when she returned her gaze to his face.

“A boxer?” she asked.

He laughed at her obvious deflection, and she laughed too, and it felt good to break the tension with something.

“That is a story not suited for a first date,” he said, with a sly smile.

She turned away, her cheeks burning. 

_ A date? A date! This is just dinner! _

She looked back at him, and his eyes sparkled at her.

_Is it just dinner _?


	2. Let's Just Be Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "A Chicken with its Head Cut Off" by The Magnetic Fields; 
> 
> "We don't have to be stars exploding in the night  
Or electric eels under the covers  
We don't have to be anything quite so unreal  
Let's just be lovers"
> 
> I've always loved that stanza, it's a good mission for relationship, and it's so simple and complicated all at once, not unlike a certain couple we adore.
> 
> Thank you reading!

**December 2012**

He’d been doing nothing, his favorite of late, just staring at a fire and letting the hours pass, when the loud, angry banging on his door pulled him back.

_ Seven hells _

He clutched his tumbler, not letting the whiskey out of his hand as he opened his door and Catelyn Stark stood in front of him, the fury on her face as plain as the red in her hair.

“What is the meaning of this?” she shouted as she thrust a paper in his face. He backed up, and she pushed her way into his home as he closed the door behind her.

“Good evening Catelyn,” he said, still in his fog of nothing and booze, trying to remember what she could be so upset about.

She threw the paper at his feet. “I’m not your charity case,” she nearly spit at him as he picked up the paper, a bank statement for her mortgage.

He rubbed his temple as the memory came back to him. Two weeks ago, in a burst of melancholy, he called his lawyer, asking for how he could pay off her house as a thank you for the concern she’d showed him. And then he did it, without a word to her, but now in light of her fury, it was rather foolish to assume she wouldn’t put it together.

“It was a gift,” he whispered. “I know…” He didn’t know how to finish. Robert had mentioned something in a drunken stupor about the Starks and their money troubles, and he wanted to help but she would never take it from him, Robert thought she hated him (and Jaime remembered agreeing with him). But then Robert kept drinking until he had to be carried to bed and forgotten their conversation the next morning. 

But Jaime remembered, remembered too that Catelyn had given up her career in the police force to support Ned as he became a judge, to raise the children and care for their home. And now he was gone, and they had money now, and it would run out, but at least he could save their house.

“It was a gift,” he repeated. “Just that. For a friend.” 

She softened a bit then, as she took a few breaths to calm down. “I can’t accept this,” she said, raising her hand to silence his protest. “But I would be a fool to turn it down.”

He saw her then, a crack in her facade, the mask she keeps in place for her children no doubt. But she shrugged it off. “I can’t repay you, but I will find a way to make this up to you.”

He shook his head, but he saw the hardness slip over her face, and he knew he didn’t stand a chance against her. She held out her hand to him, and he clutched it like a lifeline. 

She hesitated, but then took her hand back. “Do you want to come to dinner, for Sevenmas?”

She was sincere, he knew that, but he shook his head anyway. “Thank you but my family, what’s left of it, is coming here."

He laughed then, but she didn’t, and he liked her more for it. She walked toward the door and gave his arm a squeeze. “You don’t have to laugh,” she said softly. “What happened to your family is a tragedy, regardless of what the world says.”

She left then, and he felt the cold of the penthouse seep into his heart, into his bones as it settled in.

**November 2015**

“I’m not like that usually,” Jaime said to her as he sat down at her desk.

Brienne looked at him, half a god sitting near her, and her jaw dropped. He looked right at her, no mockery or cruelty in his words, like a friend not a stranger she’d driven home.

“Like what?” she asked. “Drunk and belligerent?”

He laughed, and she saw his eyes sparkle. “Well, yes,” he said. “It was my brother’s birthday, his 25th, and that’s what he wanted to do, just get shitfaced in public and see what happened. So I decided to follow his lead.”

His smile dropped then, but he didn’t look away from her.

The silence hung around then, and Brienne needed him to leave, so she broke it. “And did he have his own adventure while you got arrested?”

She looked at his face, and she saw his grimace, saw him draw and hold a deep breath, and she remembered.

She’d hadn’t seen the headlines, she was still in the hospital at the time (as she did every time she thought of that day, she ran her fingers over the scar on her cheek). But she’d heard afterward. Everyone knew someone who had departed, even her with her small circle of family and friends, but no one in the entire country had been hit the way the Lannisters had been.

“This is awkward,” he said, and she blushed as she looked away.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said with a shrug. “But, let’s talk dinner.”

She laughed at that segue, a full throated laugh that had everyone looking at them. “Well, I’ll be dining at home this evening. You?”

He smirked at her, and she wanted to scowl at him, because even with all that arrogance, he was still the best looking person she had ever seen.

“I was hoping to take you to dinner. To thank you.”

She shook her head. “It’s my job, Lannister, you don’t have to thank me.”

She turned back to the report she was writing, trying to recapture her train of thought from earlier, but he didn’t take the hint. He was still there, still smirking and staring at her.

“But I want to,” he said, like a little kid who’s been denied a treat.

She looked at him, with his puppy eyes staring at her, pleading with her, and she sighed.

_ Gods help me. _

“If I agree to one dinner with you, will you promise to go away and let me work?”

He nodded and held out his hand. 

“I’ll need your phone though. So I can call you and set things up.”

She handed over her phone, and saw him put in his info, and he even called himself so we had her number now too.

With a wink, he handed it back. He leaned over her, close to her ear. “Till dinner, Freckles.”

Her heart pulsed in her chest as she watched him leave, and she looked at her keyboard to hide her blush.

_ What have I done? _

**November 2016**

He woke up from a dream. Upon waking, he’d call is a nightmare, but it wasn’t. He was home, and his family was there, his parents, his siblings, and they were happy. It was Sevenmas, or maybe not, maybe just some day, but they were all smiling.

He felt the tears before he even knew he had been crying. 

He tried to wipe his face, when he felt her arm across his chest. Brienne was holding him to her, wrapping her strong body around his. 

He’d been with other women, but they never wanted this. They left first, or he did, and regardless of who left first, he always knew then how empty it was, even if it felt good in the moment.

He clung to her arm, and she squeezed him to her. 

_ Let me die like this _

_ Let this be my final moment _

**October 2015**

_ How did I get here? _

He pulled the comforter around his arms, the room was colder than he’s used to, but he liked it too, the warmth of the comforter shielding him from the worst of it. 

The light hurt his eyes, but he needed to see, so he squinted around the room, small but with a big bed smack in the middle. There were photos all along the walls, people and places he didn’t know, and the room was covered in blues and greens and greys by someone who wanted to recreate the ocean in their room.

_ It’s beautiful _

He closed his eyes again, and he heard someone moving around in another room, someone who was not at all concerned about making too much noise.

Gingerly, his muscles aching, he sat up and looked at his clothes, the same clothes he’d been wearing last night, but now smelling distinctly of sweat and alcohol.

He got up and noticed his shoes on the floor, his keys and wallet too, and he picked them up, ignoring the pounding in his head.

“Hello,” he said as he walked out of the bedroom. She turned to him, and he had to stop himself from gaping at her.

She’s not pretty, he thought. And she knows it too, by the way she’s looking at him looking at her, waiting for his harsh words and his scorn.

She was the biggest woman he had even seen; tall and broad and muscles everywhere, she was an Amazon warrior brought to life. Not much of a figure, but it didn’t matter, because she had those eyes, like sapphires, but soft even as she scowled at him.

And freckles, everywhere on her skin. So many freckles.

“Good, you’re awake,” she said as she pointed to the counter. She’d left him a glass of water and some aspirin and he downed both greedily.

She’s not pretty, but it wouldn’t be fair to say she’s ugly either. He looked at her again, taking in her face, which was unlike any woman he’d seen before. Her nose was crooked, she must have broken it once, or even twice. Her lips were big for her face, but he felt they were the right size, just right for kissing.

He shook his head at the thought, he was clearly hungover if he was already going there.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do I know you?”

She sighed then, annoyance written on her face and hanging off her shoulders. “What do you remember about last night?”

He tried to think, to work his way through the haze, but that’s all there was. “I remember drinking at a bar, The Hound something...and that’s it. Just the scotch. Terrible vintage.” He massaged his temples, he could almost hear Tyrion laughing at him.

“Yes, well, you kept drinking until the bartender cut you off, and called the police to come get you,” she glared at him, but he didn’t respond. That sounded like the truth. “And my supervisor asked me to take you home.”

She looked away from him then, a blush forming on her face, making her freckles even more prominent.

“But I don’t remember moving in here.” Her blush deepened at his smile, such a girlish gesture on her fierce face.

She turned away from him, and he walked to her, held out his hand. “Jaime Lannister,” he said. 

She tentatively grabbed his hand, her own dwarfing his and squeezed his gently. “Brienne Tarth. Officer Tarth,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said as he smiled into her face. She smiled back, and he knew, he was already gone.

**December 2015**

“Brienne?

She turned and saw her sergeant gesturing to her. Brienne was off for the night, even out of uniform, but she couldn’t just walk away. 

Sgt. Catelyn Stark was sitting when Brienne entered her office. 

“Close the door, this won’t take long.”

Brienne closed the door and sat down, her anxiety spiking with every second.

Catelyn held up her hand. “You’re not in trouble, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. About Lannister.”

She blushed, she couldn’t help it, and she felt it spreading over her features, which such made the red redder.

“There’s nothing there Sarge,” she stammered, trying to keep her jumbled thoughts in order. “He wanted to thank me, and we went to dinner, and that was it.”

Catelyn nodded, but she didn’t smile. “I wanted to warn you about him.” Brienne’s eyes widened, but she kept silent. 

“He’s not dangerous, and he’s not a bad man, but…” she looked away, trying to reach for the right words. “You know what happened to his family?”

“Everyone knows Sarge.”

“Yes, everyone knows,” she said. “But they don’t know what it did to him.” She stood then, crossed her desk to stand next to Brienne.

Catelyn put her hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “He could use a friend like you, but be careful with him.”

Brienne nodded at her words, more confused than anything else. 

"Are you friends?" Brienne asked.

Catelyn laughed, but shook her head. "Not friends, no, but we understand each other."

A dark look passed through Catelyn's eyes, but she shook it off as she retreated back to her desk.

“That’s all I wanted to say,” Catelyn said with a nod. “Good night officer.”

Brienne stood and left in a daze.

_ Be careful with him? What does he have to be afraid of? _

**July 2016**

She hadn’t heard him come in, but he could hear the music as soon as he opened the door.

_ 'I've been lovin' you for quite some time, time, time _

_ You think that it's funny when I'm mad, mad, mad' _

He knew the song, although he’d never told her that. He put their breakfast on the table and tiptoed to the bathroom. 

She was in a bathrobe, his bathrobe, he kept forgetting to get one for her, but he liked seeing her in his clothes. She didn’t mind either, he’d caught her sniffing his clothes from time to time.

She was brushing her wet hair, but it was taking her longer than normal as she kept pausing to use the brush a microphone. She had a nice voice, keeping her pitch level with the singer’s, and she could perform too; like everything else, she held nothing back.

_ How did I never know this? _

He watched for a few more seconds before entering the room, clearing his throat as he did. She jumped, and her blush lit up her skin, but he smiled as he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

_ 'But you carry my groceries, and now I'm always laughin' _

_ And I love you because you have given me no choice' _

“Well Freckles, it’s official, this is our song.”

She laughed at him, but his face was serious. “This? I mean, I like it, but there are so many better songs out there, even from her.”

She shook her head as he kissed her again. “Nope, this one. I’ve decided.”

With a devilish grin, he grabbed her by her waist and lifted her to the bathroom counter. She squealed as he stepped between her legs but she returned his kiss with enthusiasm.

He pulled on the strands of her robe (his robe), and she was naked in front of him, her skin still a little wet from the shower.

_ 'You took the time to memorize me _

_ My fears, my hopes, and dreams _

_ I just like hangin' out with you, all the time' _

“Our song,” he whispered to her as he pulled her to the edge of the counter and kneeled in front of her.

_ 'All those times that you didn't leave _

_ It's been occurring to me I'd like to hang out with you, for my whole life' _

“Our song,” she said softly as he kissed her inner thigh and hummed along with the song. “Ours.”


	3. When I Poured My Heart Out, Blood Flowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter comes from "Plant White Roses" by The Magnetic Fields, one of their all time great songs that was, for some reason, deleted from their first album.
> 
> There are different versions, but my favorite has Susan Anway on vocals, which you can hear here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWriL-gVKtA
> 
> "When I poured my heart out, blood flowed  
I planted you, watered you with tears  
And watched you grow away from me  
So much for my green thumb  
I've overstayed my welcome"

**June 2013**

“Why are you here Mr. Lannister?”

Dr. Davos Seaworth had a kind face, Jaime thought, and a soothing voice, which probably helped him tremendously as a shrink.

Jaime sighed at the question, because he didn’t know the answer, not truly, but he did know he didn’t really want to find the answer.

“I had an unfortunate episode, and the courts ordered that I talk to someone if I wanted to stay out of jail.”

Seaworth nodded at that while he made a note on his pad. “Were you drinking?”

Jaime shook his head. “I had been home, and then I was being put into the back of a car, and I freaked out and started swinging. I didn’t know it was a cop car until after.”

He shuddered at the memory. He had felt a soft hand on his head, and he snapped back into his body, and he didn’t know her or the man she was with. He tried to run away, but the man tackled him and Jaime punched him in the stomach, but it wasn’t enough.

“Were you on any medication or other substances?” Seaworth asked him without judgement. 

_ Was that something you knew or just practiced? _

“No, I don’t take anything stronger than aspirin.”

“That’s what your tests showed too. So why the blackout? Has it happened before?”

Jaime felt his heart start to race as panic spread over him. “Yes,” he said softly as he tried to calm down. 

“Yes,” he said again, louder this time, trying to shove those memories down where they belonged.

Seaworth eyed him for a minute, and Jaime felt himself relax more as he focused on his breathing, like Catelyn showed him.

“When it happens, do you do it on purpose? Or does it just happen?”

_ Both. Or neither. _

He shook his head, not having the words he needed. How could he tell him about all of that?

“In my experience, blacking out like that can be a coping mechanism. It’s like a mental safe space, to let yourself escape from something upsetting," Seaworth said.

He made some more notes, and Jaime could not look away from his hands as they scribbled all his flaws on a piece of paper. “When is the first time you can remember this happening?”

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood was racing, his entire body was screaming at him to run, or hide, but he was frozen in the soft glare of Seaworth’s eyes.

“My mother’s funeral,” he said, barely able to hear himself over the pounding in his head. “I remember sitting down in the church, and then I was in my sister’s room, and there’s nothing in between.”

_ Cersei stood in her room, her face red and her eyes full of tears. She clung to him, and he held her as she sobbed into his chest. _

He started shaking as the memory crashed over him. 

_ No, no, I don’t want to go back there. _

He tried to keep his breath steady, but he could feel his throat closing, his lungs ached for oxygen but none was coming in. He saw Seaworth rise and cross the room to him. He felt his warm hand on the back of his head, and the older man began massaging his neck, and the sensation was so strange that Jaime was able to get in some breaths.

Seaworth held out his other hand, and Jaime grabbed it, squeezing until he could feel his chest finding its natural rhythm.

Seaworth let go of him then and walked back to his own chair. “You’re in a lot of pain Mr. Lannister.”

Jaime couldn’t say anything, his throat was too raw, but he didn’t look away. “I think I can help you.”

He stood and held out his hand, offering a lifeline to a drowning man.

Jaime stood up and held on.

**October 2012**

It was a normal day at her father’s house.

She had come home for the weekend, college was too much sometimes, and it was a relief to be among people (or a person) who didn’t mind the look of her.

He was making breakfast, but really, at this hour, it should be called brunch, but she wasn’t one to quibble. For October, it was still warm, so she was outside, enjoying what could be the last truly warm Saturday of the year.

She was lounging in her backyard when the world ended. That’s what she would remember.

Her eyes were closed, she remembered that too. She heard it though; their neighbor, Mace Tyrell, had been watering his lawn and his dog, a terrier named Olenna, had been splashing around in the water, yipping with joy every time he ran under the sprinkler. 

Brienne knew something was wrong before she opened her eyes. She had heard Mace’s laughter, had heard the sound of the water hitting his legs, and then there was nothing but silence.

She sat up, and saw the sprinkler still running, but Olenna was frozen, staring at a spot on the lawn where nothing was.

To her left, she heard a scream from the Baratheon house.

She heard a car skidding to a stop as it hit something, something that screamed back.

She pushed herself up, she could feel the fear in the air around her, and she was about to stand up, when she heard the growl from behind her.

She shouldn’t have turned back, she knew that now. If she had stayed looking straight ahead, the dog would have only attacked her shoulder, maybe the back of her head, only that. But she did turn back, everyone would have turned back her doctor told her, and the sweet terrier that she had petted once launched at her, biting her cheek and clawing her shoulder in it’s frenzy.

She screamed, that’s all she could do. She was bigger and stronger than the dog, but she had nothing on her viciousness as she bit and clawed at her.

Her father heard her, had come running to save her, and grabbed a poker from the fireplace and fought the dog off her, killing the girl in the meantime.

In her shock and pain, Brienne laid there, wanting to cry over the dead dog, wanting to comfort her father who had to do this awful thing to save her. 

In a haze of blood and pain, the world ended. Later, when she found out what happened, she laughed to herself in private, because of course that’s how it would end.

**February 2017**

“Do I have to tell Brienne about Cersei?”

He said her name and he didn’t panic at the sound, his heart rate stayed normal. Seaworth had told him it would get better with time and medication, and Jaime had not believed him, but he’d never been so happy to be wrong.

But this was the question that four years of therapy hadn’t answered for him.

Seaworth sighed and looked Jaime in the eye. “No, you don’t,” he said. He paused but Jaime knew more was coming, knew the man well enough now to know when he was carefully weighing his words.

“What you did, what both of you did, was a result of trauma and grief, and you don’t owe that to anyone.”

He took a drink then, still weighing, still considering. “But,” he said as he turned away from Jaime. “I suspect you won’t be able to be fully with her if you don’t.”

Jaime swallowed hard, and tried to keep his breathing even, and this time it worked. “But what if she leaves me?”

Seaworth shrugs. “She could leave you tomorrow because you left your clothes on the floor after she had asked you repeatedly to not do that. You could die on your way home from my office. And she might love you enough to look past a youthful mistake. You cannot know what will happen.”

He nodded and he could already taste the bile in his throat. 

_ Love is bravery. _

She’d told him that the first time they kissed. She had kissed him, she told him, because she needed to know if she could be that strong.

_ I can be brave like you. _

He laughed at the line, from a movie she’d made him watch, a movie he loved now more than she did.

_ I can be brave like you. _

**February 2017**

Brienne unlocked the door to his place. She still couldn’t call it their place. She had keys, and a drawer, and she stayed there most nights anyway, but she still paid her own rent too.

It was dark in the apartment, but she knew he was home, she could hear the fire going. He turned his head to her, a sad smile on his face, but a smile nonetheless.

He stood up and poured himself more whiskey, poured one for her too.

He handed it to her and she followed him to the couch, their couch, she’d helped him pick one out that she found comfortable.

_ Is this my last time here? _

It’s how her mind worked, and she hated it. Anything below normal, and he was going to dump her. Catelyn had warned her about him, but Catelyn had not prepared her for her own doubts.

“I have to tell you something,” he said softly. He took a drink and shuddered at the taste. “I don’t think you’ll like it, but I need to tell you.”

She set the glass down, afraid she would squeeze it until it broke. He grabbed her hand then, and smiled at her.

“I haven’t cheated on you, and I’m not going to break up with you.”

She sucked in a breath, he knew her too well, knew all of the doubts that crashed around in her head. She nodded and squeezed back.

He took a breath and let go of her hand. He looked at the fire, and the flames lit up his eyes. She saw the dead look in them, but she let him talk.

“I’ve told you my mother died when I was 16. It was an accident; she had taken Tyrion to the park, he was 10 then and a car drove up on the sidewalk and ran her over.

“Tyrion told me later that he thought it was aiming for him, but she pushed him out of the way.”

He took a drink. “My little brother lived with that for his whole life. And my father never liked him before her death, and he loathed him afterward. I once heard him mutter that the wrong one died. Tyrion didn’t hear thankfully, but we all knew what he felt.”

“His own son?” Brienne whispered and Jaime nodded. “That’s the thing with my father, he loved my mother and he tolerated us. I was his favorite, and he could barely stand to be around me. He would have traded any of us for my mother.

“At her funeral, I blacked out, not from drinking, but because I just couldn’t believe that we had lost the parent who loved us. I felt like an orphan, and I think my siblings did too.”

He downed the rest of the whiskey then, and got up to get more. 

He sat next to her and he didn’t look away. “After the funeral, I came to in Cersei’s room. She was crying, and she kept clinging to me, saying it was just us from now on, that we were all that mattered.”

He took a deep breath, and Brienne felt her heart pulse. She didn’t want him to keep talking, she wanted him to stop.

But she stayed silent.

_ He needs to tells me. I need to hear him. _

“And she kissed me,” he whispered. “And I kissed her back.”

He looked her in the eyes, and she saw the pain in his eyes, the pain that was buried so deep it had to be excised in order to heal.

“We slept together.”

He left the words hanging, but he didn’t look away. She couldn’t say anything, she couldn’t move, she was frozen in place.

He broke off eye contact and stared at the fire. “Just once. Afterword, she told me it hadn’t happened, that we were never going to speak of it again.”

“Did it?” Brienne whispered.

“No,” he said. “It was more than a year before she would be in a room alone with me. And we never talked about it, but I think Tyrion knew, and he kept his distance from both of us.”

He looked at her and he was crying, and she wanted to comfort him, but she still felt frozen in place. “I lost my whole family.”

_ His sister? _

She couldn’t let it go, couldn’t get the image out of her head, but she knew she would in time. It was in the past, like Hyle, where it belonged.

She shook herself free of her shock, and opened her arms to him, the man she loved. He collapsed into her lap, shaking as he held onto her. 

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Please don’t leave too.”

She didn’t say anything. She pulled her legs onto the couch, and draped herself over him, keeping him safe from his own terrors.

She held onto him, this beautiful broken man who had no one left.

“Never,” she told him. The world had ended, and they were still here, and she would be damned if she would let him give up that easily.

**April 2017**

“Move in with me.”

They were on the couch, huddled up next to the fire. It was cold for April, and he had decided that he loved the cold, because it led to this.

She laughed at his statement, but snuggled further down next to him, her eyes focused on the TV, on a soccer game that he wanted to watch and since it was his turn to pick, they watched together.

That’s when he knew something was off.

“Move in with me?” he asked this time, almost pleading with her.

She sighed and pulled away from him, not looking at him. 

“I can’t Jaime.”

It felt like she had slapped him.

“Why not?” he whispered, afraid of her answer but needing to hear it anyway.

“I can’t give up my apartment,” she said, still not looking at him.

_ That’s not right. _

“Then don’t,” he told her. “Sublet it, and move your stuff in with me.”

She shook her head, and he thought he saw some tears in her eyes.

“No,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”

She stood up then, and he saw a tear drop onto her shirt. “I’m leaving.”

He stood up too, angry at her tears, angry at her for always holding back. He glared at her, and she still wouldn’t look at him.

He drew in an icy breath, holding the cold air inside him and spit it all out at her. “What are you afraid of?” he asked. 

She flinched at his hard words, but she didn’t stop. 

She didn’t even turn back.

**First date**

Jaime could not stop staring at her. She looked away from him a lot, which helped, but he kept fearing he was coming across as a creepy old man.

But he couldn’t stop.

He wanted a thousand photographs of the way she talked with her hands, or that small dimple in her cheek as she smiled, or the way the muscles in her arms stretched when she reached for her glass. 

He had been right earlier; she wasn’t pretty, or even plain, but all her pieces made a captivating package. Her body was hard, muscles everywhere, but her eyes were so delicate, like a blue that would hold you close while you cried.

Her freckles too, were all over her skin, this was a woman who lived in the sunshine, but she was pale too, just her sun-kissed brown spots adorning her skin.

_ No, she’s not pretty. But I don’t want to look away. _

And he just kept talking, then berating himself for talking.

_ Why am I talking about Tyrion? Or Lanniscorp? This is a date, not therapy. _

He stopped himself then, and watched her fingers and she tapped them against the champagne glass stem, almost a beat, almost making her own little song.

_ The glass _

He laughed, and she looked at him, confusion and a hint of anger on her face.

“I’m going to tell you a secret,” he whispered to her as he picked up her glass and let himself look at the champagne in the meager light.

He set it down again and smiled at her confusion. “That’s the first time I’ve looked at a champagne glass in two years.”

Brienne shook her head. “You lose your taste for the stuff?”

“You can’t lose what you never had,” he said. “But no, just following doctor’s orders.”

She froze as she looked at him, and he put his head in his hands. “Not like that, gods, I’m making a mess of this.”

He took a breath. “I used to have blackouts, not from drinking, but mental blackouts. I’d just be gone inside, and I’d wake up somewhere and didn’t know how I’d got there.”

She looked at him with concern, which was better than confusion, but he wanted to kick himself, to beat himself bloody for opening up about this.

“My doctor figured out that champagne glasses were the trigger, so I got rid of them, and he told me to stay away from them until I was better.”

And he was. He looked at her glass, and he thought about Cersei, saw her smiling at him, but the whirlpool of panic just wasn’t there.

He sighed.

“How awkward have I made things now? I promise, I can stop talking. I’d have to at some point.”

She laughed then, a soft easy sound and took a sip as she watched him watching her.

“Why the glasses?” she whispered while her face reddened. “I”m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

She turned away from him, and he could have let it go, but it felt right to tell her. She wouldn’t laugh at him.

“Departure day, me and my siblings were having brunch at our father’s apartment. My sister was sipping a mimosa,” he said, his voice getting quieter and quieter. “It went with her. I looked everywhere for that glass, but my father left behind one child and 7 champagne glasses, and I couldn’t make it make sense.”

He shook off the memories, took another drink, and she reached for his hand.

“Given what happened,” she said as she sighed, “blacking out seems like a good solution.”

“Until you get arrested for punching a cop who woke you up.”

Her laugh filled the room, filled his heart, filled his soul.


	4. And I Just Couldn't Help But Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "When You Were My Baby" by The Magnetic Fields.
> 
> "We were young, yeah, but old enough to...  
When you were my baby  
And I just couldn't help but love you  
When you were my baby  
Just the way you wore your hair  
And the way you just didn't care  
And the way you danced"
> 
> Now, don't read too much into that lyric, cuz the song is a bittersweet, after a break up song, but that line fits our couple very well. But, I also like to think it applies to most of the relationships here, from Brienne and Arya, Catelyn and Jaime, etc.
> 
> Thank you for reading and thanks for all of the lovely comments, they make my day every time.

**October 2014**

“I like your scar.”

The little girl with sad brown eyes looked up at Brienne and offered her a shy smile.

“You do?” Brienne asked her as she kneeled down to her level. 

Arya nodded as a mischievous grin took over her face. “It makes you look badass, like anyone would be crazy to mess with you.”

Brienne couldn’t smile at that. It was fading, that was true, and her doctors had managed to keep the scar minimal, but it was there, this blotch of too pale skin on her ugly face.

She cried when she first saw her wound, and she kept crying during her recovery, when she found out that what happened to her and to the world was the same.

“I bet no one would mess with you, or call you names, or taunt you,” the girl whispered. “No one could hurt you.”

_ You have no idea _

Arya picked up a ball on the ground and threw it across the yard. “No one could take your dad from you.”

Arya slumped on the grass then, the spark running out of her as she stared into the distance.

Catelyn had told her what happened to Ned; he and Arya had been playing, just throwing a ball back and forth, and he was there, and then he was gone, and Arya screamed and screamed and wouldn’t stop until her brother Robb wrapped his arms around her.

She’d been plagued by insomnia and night terrors ever since, but Catelyn assured her, she’s getting better.

Brienne looked at this little girl, and she had no idea what to say or do to help her. 

So Brienne laid down in the grass and looked up at the sky as the clouds passed overhead.

“Look at that one,” Brienne pointed at a fluffy beast floating above them. “Does that look like a dog to you?”

Arya huffed but leaned back too. “No, more like a bear to me. Ready to strike.”

Brienne laughed, but Arya didn’t. “I like it, it’s a mother bear, sensing a predator, and preparing for the worst.”

“Yeah,” Arya said. “That’s it.”

They laid there in silence for a minute before Arya leaned away from her. “Do you know where they went? I’d ask my mom, but anytime we mention my dad, her face scrunches up, and she can’t speak.”

She thought of Ned Stark, Mace Tyrell and Renly, beautiful, kind Renly, he surely would have gone with them, wherever they went? 

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I think if they could come back, they would. And if they can’t, it’s not because they don’t want to.”

Brienne heard her sniffles but said nothing. She understood, this little girl wanted to be strong at all times, but she needed this too, even if only in private.

“Arya!” Catelyn cried out. “Bring Brienne in for dinner please.”

Arya bolted upright and wiped her face as best she could. With her back to Brienne, she stomped toward the house, never looking back.

**April 2017**

She’d left him.

It had been days now, and he didn’t know where she had gone. He had texted, and no reply. He’d called and left a message, and still nothing.

It was a Sunday, it was supposed to be a relaxing day at home, for both of them, but she had left.

So he left too.

Jaime wandered the streets in a daze, but not in a blackout. He smiled to himself, because even in his misery, it was a step forward. 

_ I can be heartbroken and still whole. _

It was a new thought for him, but he didn’t give it much thought until his feet lead him to a door and he knocked.

He’d known he was coming here, but he didn’t know what to say as Catelyn opened the door and offered him a hesitant smile.

“Mr. Lannister,” she said, with a hint of warmth in her voice.

_ It’s a start. _

“Is your offer still good?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“My offer?”

“Dinner.”

She nodded and held the door open for him. He came in and the warmth of the house seeped into his body, filling in the cracks, and he felt lightheaded at the sensation.

Catelyn took his coat and led him to the dining room, where her children stared at him in silence, their ruckus immediately cut off as they saw him.

Five pairs of Stark eyes looked at him, with curiosity, in the youngest boy’s eyes, and with something like affection, in the older girl’s eyes.

There was an empty seat at the head of the table, but Jaime knew not to take it, knew that must have been Ned’s seat.

Almost five years later, they kept it empty for him.

_ I can’t even sit at my father’s table. _

A small shudder passed through at the thought, but then he saw Catelyn bringing another chair into the room. She set it down next to her oldest daughter, and she smiled at him as he sat down.

“Mr. Lannister,” the girl said with a nod.

“Please, call me Jaime,” he told her, told them all.

She nodded and handed him a plate.

He listened to the Starks as they ate and shared their days, and the kids all mentioned not wanting to go to school tomorrow, because the weather was getting nice again and how awful it was to be cooped up in the spring.

He remembered that too, that feeling of wanting to leap out of school, to hit the grass and just keep running, leaving all that learning to someone else, he only belonged in the sun.

It hurt a little to realize that feeling had been lost for a long time.

But then dinner was done, and Catelyn looked at him with a question in her eyes, and she turned to her children and asked them to go outside.

Without a word, they left and Jaime was left with her and her gaze.

He sighed.

“I asked her to move in with me, and she left.”

He looked at her, and he saw the pain on her face, but she didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“She’s afraid,” Catelyn said softly.

“Of what?”

Catelyn got up and stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder.

“Of you,” she said. “She’s afraid to love you.”

She squeezed his shoulder, and then went outside to be her children, leaving him alone with her words, the words that pierced him like daggers.

**April 2017**

She came back, and he was gone.

Brienne felt his absence in his home, their home she reminded herself, and she held her breath and told herself not to panic.

Instead, she pulled in the boxes she’d brought, that some no-doubt underpaid employee had carted up to the top floor.

It was three today, just some clothes, her favorite books that she couldn’t be away from, photo albums and her laptop, the essentials.

The rest of her stuff could wait.

She'd put her apartment on the market just an hour ago, but she would have more time to move the rest.

She had thought and fretted, tried to get past her fears, but it wasn’t until the test results came back, confirming what she already suspected, that she knew, finally knew for certain, that this was the only way forward.

_ I can do this. I can trust him, he loves me, I can let myself love him. _

She took out a photo of her parents, one she had stolen from her dad’s room when she was 10. He had hidden it in a drawer, and she rescued it. They were staring at each other as the sun set in the ocean behind them.

It was a cliche of cliches, but she had never seen her father like that, and she couldn’t remember her mother at all. She hugged the frame to her chest, and hung the photo in the living room, where she could see it from the couch with only a turn of her head.

_ This is what I want for us. This is why I came back. _

_ Will he understand that? Will he forgive me? _

She was holding a stack of books in her hands, headed to the bookshelf when he came in. She saw him before he saw her, and her heart clenched as saw the defeat written in the lines of his face.

But he looked up at her, with the dust in her hair and the books in her arms, and the smile that hit his face was so powerful it could have rivaled the sun.

“I thought,” he said. “I thought you had left.”

She put the books down and wrapped her arms around him. He held on to her, squeezed her so tightly that she gasped, but she didn’t back away.

“I was afraid,” she said softly as she ran her hand through his hair. 

_ Afraid of those stars in your eyes when you look at me, how my chest thumps when you grab my waist, afraid of you leaving me as I cry for you to stay. _

She shook her head as if to shake off her thoughts. “But I don’t have time for that any more.”

He let her go and looked up at her, not even pausing before kissing her and nearly drowning her in his touches.

“Time?” he asked her as she pulled back from his embrace.

“I’m pregnant Jaime,” she said, looking him in the eye, seeing the panic there, and then seeing it fade as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her with all his heart.

**First date**

“How do you know Catelyn?” she asked him.

He had a look in his eye, something she couldn’t figure out, but he shook it off. “Her husband was best friends with my brother in law. Former brother-in-law. And occasionally we would have holidays together.”

“And you’re still friendly, after…” her voice trailed off. It’s been three years, and she still cannot find the words to talk about that day.

“Not really,” he said, echoing Catelyn’s words to her. “But she looks out for me.”

Brienne nodded. “And you look out for her?”

He took a drink, but nodded. 

“How did you meet Catelyn?” he asked, letting her have the floor.

She shook her head. “You don’t want to hear that, it’s work talk.”

“Trust me, we could both use a break from my babbling.”

She blushed, but she nodded, and he let out a chuckle.

“Fair enough, freckles,” he said as she looked at him sharply. “You’re turn to share.”

She rolled her eyes and took a drink. “When I was at the academy, my fellow recruits had the idea to scam some local college kids, selling them fake drugs, telling them that it was a new downer, it would let them commune with the dead. Or missing.”

She looked at him, and she shuddered a bit. “I was dating one of the ringleaders, and he told me about it, thinking I would want in.”

“You turned them in?”

She nodded. “All of them. He’d given me the rundown of the whole thing in his sales pitch. I told the academy president, and he hushed it up, but they all have notes in their files, they can’t be promoted for another 2 years, and even then, they won’t get raises for another 4.”

“Ouch.”

“They should have been dismissed, but it’s something at least,” she said, with just a hint of bitterness.

“You got a note in your file too?”

She nodded. “It’s not official, but I know it’s there. Troublemaker. Rat. Traitor.”

She took another drink, but just water this time. “When we graduated, no squad asked for me, no captain wanted to take me on. And I can’t prove it, but I know that’s why.”

“Except Catelyn.”

“Except Catelyn. She had just started at a new squad, and she told me later, she went to her captain and demanded me for her officers. You know what she’s like, and she had to fight him, but she won in the end.”

“And she looked out for you too?”

Brienne didn’t say anything but nodded. He wanted to reach for her hand, but he didn’t, he held back, not wanting to spook her.

“She’s the Mother made flesh,” Jaime whispered, and Brienne smiled at him.

“And woe betide that one who crosses her children.”

**February 2015**

Brienne’s phone rang, and she almost ignored it.

It had to be a prank, she thought, who would call her in the middle of the night. She thought of her father, and her heart skipped. She reached for her phone, but it was only Catelyn.

Still not letting go of her anxiety, she answered.

“Catelyn?” she said sleepily, alert but not yet fully awake.

“Brienne? This is Sansa Stark, I’m so sorry to wake you, but I need your help.”

Brienne sat up and turned on the light as the girl rambled out a story between cries.

“We were at the mall, and Arya told me she just wanted to hang out with friends, so I let her go with them, but she didn’t meet me when she was supposed to, and I think she’s still with them, and they’ve taken her to a party, and she’s 12 and I let her go, and my mother will kill me if anything happens to her.”

Sansa took a breath, trying to get her voice to steady but instead she dissolved into hiccups for another minute.

“Please, I can’t tell my mom, she couldn’t take it, can you help me find her?”

Brienne looked at the clock, just after midnight. She groaned, but on the inside, because she knew this was no time for a 12 year old girl to be at a party.

“Do you know where they went?” Brienne asked, hearing an unfamiliar steel in her voice. 

Sansa hiccuped once more, but then her voice leveled out. “Mom put these trackers on our phones after…” She inhaled, a trait she picked up from her mother no doubt. “I have an address, I’ll text it to you.”

Brienne looked at the address and grimaced. She knew the neighborhood, home of the North Men, a gang known for hassling and shaking down tourists. A lot of bravado, but not too violent_ . _

_ I guess if she had to pick a gang, that would be the best choice. _

She chuckled mirthlessly at the thought as she drove over. 

As she approached the house, she wished she had thought to bring her badge, and maybe her uniform, but she wasn’t here as a cop, she reminded herself. 

And they were just kids throwing a party.

She walked up to the front door, and a hand shot out from the house to stop her. A small boy, maybe 14 at the most, looked up at her with a smirk.

“You’re not invited, piss off.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but she held back. She didn’t want a fight, she just needed Arya.

“Look, I’m just here to get my friend, then I’m leaving.” She gently pushed past him and scanned the living room, where she saw Arya sitting on the couch with a sour look on her face and beer in her hand.

Brienne walked over to her, loomed over her. “It’s time to go,” Brienne said, her voice steady and level as she felt all the eyes in the room turned to her.

Arya scowled and looked up at her, her face a mask of anger and defiance, no doubt showing off for her new friends.

“I’m not leaving,” she nearly spat the words. She smirked at Brienne as she stood up, the top of her head barely coming to Brienne’s rib cage. “And you can’t make me.”

“That’s where you're wrong,” Brienne said, and without another word, Brienne reached down and scooped the girl up, throwing her over her shoulder even as she howled and spilled her beer down Brienne’s back.

Brienne held on to her past the kids who gaped at her, past the one boy who tried to stop them. Arya howled with rage at Brienne and pounded on her back with her tiny fists, but Brienne didn’t let that stop her. She unceremoniously threw Arya into the back of her squad car, locking her in and keeping her safe.

The girl kicked and punched the back of the seat with all her might, and Brienne let her as she drove her home.


	5. If There's Such A Thing As Love, I'm In It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from "If There's Such a Thing as Love" by The Magnetic Fields, one of their rare, genuinely happy love songs. I had that CD for years before discovering that song, and wow, it was a most pleasant surprise.
> 
> "If there's such a thing as love,  
If there's such a thing as love,  
I'm in it.
> 
> So you claim you love me too,  
Lloyd's of London guarantee it.  
Gaze into these eyes of blue,  
You do love me I decree it."

**February 2016**

“Was this your first time?”

Jaime looked at her, his eyes wide open, sparking in their afterglow, and she wanted to run.

She felt a surge of adrenaline run through her veins, telling her to flee from this warm bed and its golden owner, but he reached out and stroked her face, running his thumb over her scar, tucking her hair behind her ear, keeping her in place.

He chuckled to himself. “I don’t mean it like it’s a bad thing,” he said, still petting her face, leaving sparks in her skin. “You just seemed so surprised.”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out those memories. Jaime was not Hyle, he wasn’t, but her brain wouldn’t listen, and when she opened her eyes, she saw Hyle’s smirking face staring at her, telling her she had to leave.

She shuddered, even in this toasty room. She could feel her eyes stinging, and those traitorous tears threatening to drop, so she turned her back to him, hiding from him even as she laid there naked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he threw his arm around her torso and nestled into her back.

“I never know what to say. I always say the wrong thing. I’ll shut up now.”

He kissed her shoulders and her neck, and she felt the goosebumps up and down her arms as he did.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “It was just the first time it’s been like that.”

She didn’t want to look at him, so she kept her back to him and closed her eyes shut as the tears fell. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

She felt him scoot closer to her.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said to her. “Just go to sleep, I’ll be here.”

He couldn’t have known her story, but she knew it didn’t matter. She believed him, and she was lost.

**June 2017**

_ She won’t look at me _

He thought back, back to two weeks ago as he held her hand and their doctor told them it was a miscarriage. He squeezed her hand just as his heart clenched, and he looked at her and saw that hard steel in her eyes as she accepted that their baby wasn’t to be.

She looked away from him then, and she hasn’t turned back since.

They’ve talked and cried and held each other, but still, she would barely speak to him.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, watching some show on TV, her pick tonight, and her eyes were glazed over.

He reached for the remote and turned it off.

She turned to him then, not meeting his eyes still, but she wasn’t angry.

“What’s wrong Jaime?” she asked, her voice nearly as dead as her eyes.

“Will you tell me?” 

She stood up then, and he grabbed her hand, gently pulling her back to him.

She sat down again, but turned her back to him.

“Dr. Seaworth told me once that in a crisis, you’re likely to have all sorts of feelings, and none of them are your definitive answer for how you feel about something.”

He paused, reached out to stroke her shoulders and he could feel the tension in her as he massaged them.

“He said that just naming the emotions you feel can give them less power over you. And sharing them can help you through them.”

She moaned slightly as he hit a knot above her shoulder blade, but still she was silent.

“When you lost the baby, I was very angry at the Seven and at myself but I know there’s nothing I can do with that because none of us are to blame for what happened to our baby. It’s common and horrific, and I don’t want you to think that I'm upset with you because of something that happened to us.”

She turned to him then, tears in her eyes as she finally looked at him.

“I wanted to have a baby with you,” she whispered as she grabbed his hand. “Want to still.”

She bit her lip as more tears fell. He wanted to reach for her, wipe her tears away and hold her till she was no longer sad, but he knew better. She needed to speak now or forever she would hold onto her nightmare.

“But when the doctor told us what happened…” She dropped his hand and stood up. “I was relieved. I was sad and angry, but I felt that I wasn’t ready, and I was relieved the gods listened to me.”

He stood up and pulled her into a hug as she sobbed on his shoulder. “I’ll be a horrible mother,” she said into his shoulder. “And you’ll hate me and leave me, and I’ll just be alone forever.”

She laughed at her own words, but he didn’t, just held her tighter as he ran his hand along her back.

She looked at him, and she was smiling through her tears. “It’s ridiculous where my brain can take me when I’m upset.”

He didn’t smile, and he didn’t laugh. He kissed her instead. “I’ll never leave you,” he said.

He cupped her face with his hands, and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“Never.”

**March 2015**

Brienne had stayed away from the Stark house, but she couldn’t avoid them anymore. Catelyn had invited her over, and with those hard eyes staring at her, Brienne’s excuses dried up and she had said yes.

And now she was here, in the backyard again as Arya glared at her as they sat apart.

“My friends won’t speak to me,” Arya said. “They think I asked a cop to come get me, and now they won’t even look at me.”

The little girl stood before Brienne, her grey eyes laser focused on Brienne, and although she was bigger and stronger than Arya, Brienne felt a shiver of fear at the rage housed in that tiny body.

“They couldn’t have been that good of friends then,” Brienne said.

Arya scowled harder, stamped her foot in the grass at her words. “I wanted them for my pack!” she snarled at Brienne. “We could have kept each other safe.”

Arya launched herself at Brienne, and Brienne was so startled, Arya got in some tiny punches before Brienne had the sense to hold her back.

“Arya, this will not keep you safe.”

Arya struggled against Brienne’s hands that were holding her arms in place. Brienne sighed as she looked at this girl, so lost and so angry, and it hit her.

“What if I taught you?”

Arya stopped struggling then. “What?” she asked, the edge still in her voice.

“I could teach you, how to fight, how to defend yourself. Your sister too, and your brothers, if they wanted to learn. Then you could protect each other.”

Arya went limp in Brienne’s hold, the fight went out of her muscles immediately. She looked at Brienne, the rage still in her eyes, but a question there too.

“You’re serious?” she whispered, almost whimpering.

Brienne nodded and let her go then, and Arya threw her arms around Brienne, holding her as tight as her small body would let her.

“It won’t bring him back,” Brienne whispered. She felt Arya nod, felt her tears hit her shoulder. 

“But if I’m fast enough,” Arya said. “I can go next time. I’ll make it in time.”

Brienne stroked her hair as she lifted the girl up and carried her inside.

**First date**

He wanted her to talk more.

He knew he was taking over the conversation, it was just his way to deal with nerves, and apparently her way was to clam up.

But he couldn’t let her; he needed to know her, needed to know why he couldn’t look away from her.

“How long have you been a cop?” he asked.

“Just about two years,” she said. 

She pulled her eyes back to her meal away from him, her voice cutting off with those few words.

“And why did you become a cop?”

He could tell she didn’t want to share, didn’t want to talk to him much at all, but he’d never been kind, and he needed answers.

She sighed.

She turned her face to the right, where he could see the scar across her cheek.

“On Departure Day, I was attacked by my neighbor’s dog. She went wild after seeing her master disappear, and I was in the hospital for a month recovering from that while the world came to grips with what had been done to us.”

She chewed on a piece of chicken, considering her words, and Jaime couldn’t look away from her mouth.

“I laid there, and I kept thinking that what we thought mattered wasn’t the case anymore. At any moment, we could just be gone, so what did school matter? All that mattered was helping people, trying to make what was left better. I dropped out and signed up for police training the day after I was discharged.”

She looked at him, her eyes so somber, so lost.

“Did you lose someone that day?”

She sucked in a breath, and nodded.

“A friend,” she whispered. “He’s been out walking when it happened, and a car hit him after a passenger departed.”

_ Stupid, stupid Jaime _

She dabbed at her eyes, but she didn’t turn away from her memories. “He held on, he fought, but…”

She left the words hanging, and something clicked in his brain.

“Renly?”

She nodded, but her face was full of confusion. “You knew him?”

“His brother, that’s my sister’s ex-husband.”

She nodded and retreated inside again, and he cursed himself for ever being born, for making her dwell on those memories.

**September 2017**

Dorne was his idea.

They needed a break, an extended stay somewhere that wasn’t King’s Landing, that didn’t remind them of everything they’d lost.

And their transformation was magical. They were visiting in the off season, and the beaches were empty, but the sun poured over them as they swam in the chilly water.

Brienne has insisted on lathering herself with sunscreen every day, and even then, she still sprouted new freckles on her sun-kissed skin, and for the first time, she didn’t mind.

They lounged in bed all day and had all their meals delivered, went swimming when they felt like it, watched Dornish soap operas they couldn’t understand, and just enjoyed each other.

It was paradise.

He and Brienne were walking through a market, a tourist trap that claimed to provide a look at what Dorne would have been like in the Age of Heroes. They weren’t fooled, who would be, but it was fun to be surrounded by all those people hawking their wares.

He had stopped to look at a pottery stall, utterly captivated by a vase depicting a dragon in flight, ( _ a stab in his chest as he remembered how Tyrion had loved dragons when he was a boy _ ) when he felt Brienne’s hand clench his arm. 

“We have to go,” she said, her voice high and strained. Jaime set down the vase, promising himself he’d come back to buy it tomorrow, and let her drag him away.

“Brienne?”

He heard the voice, but she gripped his hand tighter and picked up their pace, nearly running back to their car.

“Brienne!”

The voice faded as they approached the parking lot, and Brienne barely paused to put on her seat belt before speeding away.

He didn’t speak as she drove them back to their villa. He didn’t say anything as she raced to the bathroom, or when he heard her vomiting.

He sat on the bed and waited for her.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. 

She left the room then, leaving him on the bed, and he felt this surge of anger and a wave of concern hit him simultaneously.

He followed her to the kitchen where she was making coffee, and he stood up next to her and looked her right in the eye.

“Who was that?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

She smiled at him, even though it didn’t reach her eyes. “No one,” she said as she stroked his arm. “I’m sorry we had to rush out, but we can go back tomorrow.”

She turned back to the coffeepot, but he couldn’t be quiet anymore.

“Brienne, “ he said, not even trying to hide the irritation in his voice. “Talk to me. Who was he?”

She shuddered as he spoke, and he felt a stab of guilt in his belly, but he ignored it. 

“Please,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Please.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her eyes darkened, something he’d never seen before.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Or him.”

She left the kitchen, and he heard the bedroom door slam.

This is what she does, he told himself. She runs and hides because she thinks she’s a burden. It’s how she copes, by shutting down.

_ Not today _

He followed her again, and he opened the bedroom door as she crawled into bed with the covers over her head.

He sat on the bed next to her, his hand on her hip.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he told her, and he meant it too. “But why don’t you want to talk about it?”

She sat up, looked at him, all the hardness gone. She looked younger somehow, her eyes wide open and vulnerable, her breath coming in ragged bursts.

“It’s too sad a story,” she said. “I can’t relive it, even for you.”

He held out his hand, and she held it. “How about for you?”

She looked away from him, lost in her own head, and shook her head.

“His name is,” she paused as she fought back a shudder. “Hyle Hunt.”

She looked pale at the sound of her own words. “He’s an asshole.”

He thought back to earlier, heard the man’s voice, a hint of surprise when he called to her the first time, then something almost like desperation in the second.

“Did he,” he paused, trying to find the words. “Did he win?”

She nodded as more tears fell. She sank back into bed, but she didn’t cover her face again.

“I thought I was cured,” she said. “I hadn’t seen him in such a long time, I thought it couldn’t hurt me.”

He climbed in next to her, snuggled with her as he kissed her all over.

“Nothing can hurt you when I’m here,” he told her, with a smirk on his face he didn’t feel.

“Nothing?” she teased him back.

“I will smite anyone that dares threaten my lady.”

She laughed, and he laughed too, but even he knew it wasn’t real.

**September 2017**

It had taken only two weeks to find him.

The Lannisters are diminished now, no question, but the name still carries weight, and when Jaime Lannister offered to fly Hyle Hunt to King’s Landing for a headhunting meeting, who could say no?

Jaime sat in the corner of the hotel dining room and saw him when he came in. 

He looked average; average height (shorter than me), average build, brown eyes, light brown hair. He didn’t see the appeal, but someone did as he noticed the ring on Hunt’s left hand.

He did notice his nose, broken and crooked. It didn’t add to his face, but it did give him something to distinguish himself from the crowd.

Jaime rose as he approached, a fake smile on his face and shook his hand.

Hunt passed him his resume, but Jaime didn’t pick up the folder.

“I wanted to meet you Mr. Hunt, to give you a message,” Jaime said, his voice dropping low, the lion’s roar for a modern age.

Hunt paled at his tone, but he didn’t waver. “What’s the message?” he said, his voice surprisingly steady.

“Brienne Tarth,” Jaime seethed, barely holding back his claws. “Stay away from her.”

Hunt flushed, but nodded. “Was that you, in Dorne?”

Jaime made a quick nod of his head, and Hunt looked away.

Hunt stood up then, but he looked resolute, not angry as Jaime expected. “I will,” he said in a flat voice. “Will you tell her I’m sorry? I’m truly sorry, she didn’t deserve that.”

Without another word, the man left, taking his resume with him.

**September 2017**

She beat Jaime home, something that never happened, and it put her on guard. Even as she ordered dinner, even as she read her book waiting for him, and when he came through the door, she was so out of sorts, she launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over.

He laughed though, and spun her around a bit, making her laugh too.

“Miss me?” he asked, with a gleam in his eye.

“A bit,” she said, with laughter in her voice.

They ate dinner, and it was his turn to pick their show, and of course he chose the football game, but she didn’t mind, it was a great excuse to read as she laid in his lap.

But as she sat on the couch, he looked at her before turning on the TV.

“I met with Hyle Hunt today,” he said, and she felt her blood freeze.

“I told him to stay away from you.”

She found her voice after a minute. “He lives here?” she whispered, frightened at the thought.

“No,” he said. “I tricked him into coming. He lives in the Stormlands somewhere, I don’t remember the name of the town.”

Her hand went to her throat as she stifled her cry. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to share this.

Jaime cleared his throat, but he didn’t look away. “He also said to tell you he was sorry.”

Her nostrils flared, the old, dormant rage pulsing through her blood. “He said what?”

“He said he was sorry and you didn’t deserve that.”

She couldn’t sit here, she couldn’t be here, with this man who loved her and talk about the one who hadn’t.

Jaime called out to her as she ran out, ran to the elevator, ran to the gym in the lobby. It was after hours, but living with the owner had its perks. She keyed in the override code, and sprinted to the punching bag, something that Jaime, who hasn’t boxed in 4 years, insisted be in his gym

She saw Hyle’s face, that goofy grin of his, the way he would lean over his chair to flirt with her during class. She laughed at his antics, she laughed at him in her mind, because she could see right through him.

And then came the party, and even sober, she suddenly couldn’t see clearly. That’s what she told herself as she danced with him, as she let him touch her, kiss her. She kissed him back, even if it hurt her neck to lean down to him, it was wonderful, his lips smooth against her rough ones.

With a smile, he led her to a room, and he locked the door, she knew what was coming, and she wanted it, she was ready and so was he.

She’d liked his kisses, and his touches, but sex was something else. She felt opened and exposed to him, and she knew it had gone too fast. But he would kiss her again, and her doubts vanished as he moved in her, and she found she liked the feel of him after all.

And then that look, like she was nothing. And the photo.

Thank the gods she’d thrown the blanket over herself as he got up. Anyone could tell it was her, and that she was naked, but her body was safe from her classmates’ cruel eyes at least.

_ I liked you. _

_ I trusted you. _

And now he was sorry.

She punched the bag, punched until her shoulders ached and her knuckles cracked open, and she wouldn’t have stopped if Jaime hadn’t thrown water on her.

Out of breath, she looked at him, and she saw her own rage in his eyes. 

“What did he do?”

It was just a question. She could ignore it, he wouldn’t press for an answer, but she could do this. She was strong and mighty and not the same girl who wanted a cruel boy to like her.

“He used me,” she said.

Jaime walked up the bag and threw his entire body into the punch. “That should have been his face.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry, it was.”

He laughed then, a laugh that was a roar, and grabbed her and kissed her.

“Marry me,” he said.

She laughed, the idea was absurd, but he didn’t laugh, just smiled at her, smirked even, with a devilish grin on his face.

“Marry me,” he repeated. “Whenever, wherever, doesn’t matter. Just say yes.”

Her eyes widened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box.

In a dirty gym, with the floor soaked from the water he had thrown on her, he kneeled on a mat and held it up to her.

“Marry me,” he said, his eyes full of love and hope.

_ For me _

She reached for the box, and she saw the ring, a simple blue diamond on a gold band. She put it on and it fit her perfectly.

“I’ve been carrying that since Dorne. I just needed the right time.”

“And this is it?”

He laughed. “No, it isn’t. But there is no better time.”

_ Everything I want is right here, and I’m terrified. _

She looked at the ring on her finger, and even in her fear, she saw their future, a house and kids, a home full of love. She kneeled down to him and kissed him lightly on his mouth.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of trivia about this chapter: on Departure Day, Brienne hears the crash that will later kill Renly (sniff), but she mentions that she heard a scream from the Baratheon house. Selyse screamed as Stannis departed.
> 
> So, Robert Baratheon lost both his brothers, his wife, his youngest child and his best friend (that's the one that hurts the most). If I cared about this character at all, that would make for an interesting fic. But I don't, so you know, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯.


	6. Shadows of Echoes of Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "When My Boy Walks Down the Street" by The Magnetic Fields. It is an adorable song about infatuation and meeting a new love. This chapter is a lot of snippets of things that happened before Jaime and Brienne met, so the line I used seemed extra appropriate.
> 
> "Butterflies turn into people when my boy walks down the street  
Maybe he should be illegal he just makes life too complete...  
Amazing he's a whole new form of life  
Blue eyes blazing and he's going to be my wife
> 
> Oh, shadows of echoes of memories  
Oh, things that he brings that he found in the sea  
Oh, shadows of echoes of memories of songs  
Oh, how could he know that it won't be long"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the lovely comments and kudos, they mean a lot.
> 
> I'm albatrossisland on tumblr if you'd like more Braime content or cat pics in your feed.

**September 2015**

Brienne stood at the door to her father’s house and waited.

Of course, she knew what he wanted, for her to just go in, open the door and walk right into his life and his home, and she wanted that too, but it didn’t feel right.

This wasn’t her home.

Her home had been where she’d grown up, on the other side of King’s Landing. Her hand went to her scar, a bit faded now, as she remembered why he had sold the place after all those years.

_ “I can’t go back there. I can’t relive that day over and over.” _

She would have liked to go back, have something familiar to cling to in this new world, but it wasn’t her decision; the house had been sold by the time she’d left the hospital.

She raised her hand and knocked loudly on the door. It felt both right and wrong at the same time, but it was the best she could do.

Her father greeted her with a smile and a bear hug that took her breath away. He had not been a demonstrative man when she was growing up, but now, since that day, he’s held on to her too tightly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him back.

“Hi Dad,” she said when he let her go.

“Come in, come in, I want to show you something.”

He smiled at her, and she followed him to his study. He pulled up a photo of a house on the beach, a white beauty that was just above the shore line.

“I bought it,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve always wanted to retire next to the ocean, and I’m doing it.”

She had known about his dream of course. When she was a child, she’d often walk into his study and he would be engrossed in a book about sailing, or casually looking at real estate as a hobby.

Brienne smiled at him, her heart swelling at the joy on his face even if she knew how much she would miss him.

His face fell, and he looked away from her.

“And I’m not going alone.”

Her dad had had girlfriends of course, some of them nice and some of them not, but all of them had been temporary. She hadn't wanted another mother, and he had never wanted another wife, but he hadn’t wanted to be lonely either.

“Her name is Charlotte,” he said with a shy smile. “We’ve been dating for a couple of years now, and she’s retiring for good, and she wants to get away.”

She was happy for him, she was, but she still felt an ache in her chest. 

_ He’s leaving, he’s leaving, he’ll never come back _

It was ridiculous to feel this way, she knew that, but she couldn’t help feeling like he was abandoning her. But she tramped her feelings down as he brought his hand to her face and made her meet his eyes.

“She’d like to meet you, if you’re willing.”

She nodded.

This woman made her father happy. She could pretend to like her for one meal.

**October 2015**

An older woman, late 50s Brienne guessed, waved at her as she walked into the cafe.

She was small, 5”4 Brienne would have guessed, nearly a foot shorter than her, which meant nearly a foot and a half shorter than her dad.

Slim, pretty face still, long brown hair and a warm smile.

Brienne wanted to hate this woman immediately, for being everything she wasn’t, but Charlotte stood up and threw her arms around Brienne’s waste, smiling at her, and Brienne knew it would never work.

“It’s so good to meet you, “ Charlotte said as they sat down. “Selwyn has told me all about you, but of course that’s nothing compared to meeting you in person.

Charlotte was beaming at her with these big brown eyes, and Brienne felt herself cave into this woman’s charm.

“My dad said you’re a nurse?” Brienne asked and Charlotte nodded.

“For 35 years, but it’s time to retire. It’s been time, since…” Brienne winced as Charlotte did, they were too close to the anniversary for anything else.

Charlotte looked at Brienne then, and Brienne could see her focus on the scar on her cheek. The surgeons had done what they could for her, and the scar was just a pale blotch on her face, but it was just one more thing making her hideous. Brienne could barely stand to look at it, though she touched it often.

“That healed well,”’ Charlotte said with a shy smile. “It was my hospital they brought you too.”

Brienne had wondered how her father had met this woman, and there was the answer.

She nodded, and when Charlotte reached for her hand, she let her. 

“It’s not too bad,” Charlotte said. “You’re pale enough that it’s not noticeable right away.”

Brienne wanted to laugh and scream at her words, but instead she said nothing. Charlotte squeezed her hand then let her go, and Brienne was glad of it.

“Do you have children?” Brienne asked, anything to get the focus off her.

Charlotte’s smile dropped then. “Yes,” she said softly. “My daughter. She’s a nurse too, or was.”

Brienne felt a sinking in her stomach, that old panic feeling when she thought about her sisters, her broken father who lost them and her mother in the same wreck.

She reached for Charlotte’s hand this time, offering her what little comfort she could. 

Charlotte smiled at her, her eyes sparkling a little with tears. “She’s not dead,” Charlotte said. “Departed.”

Brienne had no words, no comfort for that, just the usual raw anger at what had happened to her, to Charlotte, to the world on that day.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally said as her words found her again.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, brushing away her tears. 

This was so wrong, Brienne thought. She shouldn’t be sitting here, crying over her lost daughter. Her father shouldn’t have been worried about her dying from that dog bite, her face mangled and bloody.

_ And Renly _

She shouldn’t have had to attend his funeral, Renly who had died too young. She shouldn’t have had to sit there, holding back her tears and watching Renly’s husband break down in his sister’s arms.

_ This world is wrong _

Charlotte looked at her then, and she flinched at the obvious rage on Brienne’s face.

Brienne stood up then, knowing that she had to get out of here before she broke something.

“It was nice meeting you,” she said, her voice flat even thought she meant it, but she couldn’t have Charlotte think she was angry at her. “I have an appointment, but good luck with the move.”

She drove to her gym, and she punched and punched until her arms were jelly, and she didn’t have the energy to think anymore.

**September 2013**

“Tell me about your blackout.”

Jaime had just sat down, and Seaworth was already off and running, pulling him to a place he did not want to go.

“How do you know about that?” Jaime asked, with a hint of defensiveness in his voice. He hadn’t planned on bringing it up, and he was a little irked at having it thrown in his face.

Seaworth rolled his eyes, and Jaime laughed at the gesture; Seaworth was far too old for a gesture like that.

“This is court-ordered counseling, Mr. Lannister, I am required to talk to the police about you.”

Seaworth flinched at the look of panic on Jaime’s face, but he recovered quickly. “Not what we talk about, just that we talk. And a sergeant there, “ Seaworth paused to check his notes.

“Sergeant Stark?” Jaime asked while already knowing the answer.

“Yes, Stark, she mentioned that an officer had picked you up again, but you didn’t pose any harm this time, so he brought you home.”

_ Did I buy myself a bodyguard with that gift? _

“So if you would, tell me what happened.”

Seaworth looked at him, and Jaime couldn’t fight the pull of his eyes, deep and brown and filled with concern.

“I don’t remember exactly,” Jaime said. “I was in my kitchen, and then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was in the street.”

_ The panic, he remembered the panic in his chest, threatening to cut off his lungs, but that hand squeezed his shoulder. _

_ An older man, with a hard lined face looked at him with pity, but kindness to. “It’s alright Lannister. I’ll get you home.” _

“I think she’s having me followed. Catelyn, uh, Sergeant Stark.”

Seaworth nodded. “Wise woman.”

Jaime laughed, he thought so too.

“What do you remember before the blackout. You were in your kitchen.”

Jaime pulled himself back two days, he was watching a soccer game, a women’s team he’d read was up and coming, and he’d agreed, in another season or two, they would be unstoppable. He was thirsty, he went to get a glass, but the dishes were all dirty.

“I was opening cupboards,” he said while a feeling of dread passed through him. “The dishes were dirty, and I was thirsty.”

“You were looking for a glass.”

Jaime nodded. “Yes, I needed a glass.”

He felt the fear in his heart, a tightness in his chest. “And I opened a cupboard I don’t open.”

_ The champagne glasses, seven of them, twinkled in the kitchen light, staring at him, mocking him, he could hear Cersei’s laughter, the cruel joy she took in his fumbles. His father scoffed at him, Tyrion too, even Tyrion wasn’t above insulting him when the opportunity arose. _

He felt like he was trapped in a whirlpool, his mind and his memories swirling together, pulling him under.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he held on as he tried to focus on his breathing, tried to shut his mind off without shutting down.

“Why won’t you open that cupboard?”

_ She was drinking, on her second mimosa, a drink their father hated but would tolerate once a month. She clutched the glass to her chest, her port in the storm, her security blanket. _

Seaworth squeezed his shoulder, and he looked at the old man, worry lines all around his face.

_ He thinks I’m a nut. _

Jaime wanted to laugh, but his tightened chest wouldn’t let any sound through.

“Why won’t you open that cupboard?”

Jaime touched his chest, and he could feel his heart pounding in his fingertips. 

“Because,” he said, kicking himself for this childish answer.

“Because why?” Seaworth said, insistent but kind too. 

_ Always kind _

“Because I can’t face it. I can’t fight it, so I can’t face it.”

Seaworth sighed, and left him on the couch alone.

“We’re going to have to talk about that at some point,” he said as he made a note on his pad. “But for this week, I’d like you to ask someone to empty that cupboard for you. It’s not safe to have a trigger in your house.”

Jaime nodded and stood up.

“Thank you,” he said as he walked out.

**September 2013**

He woke up and it was still light outside.

A pale beam of sunshine was coming through his open blinds, bathing them in sunlight.

The light bounced off her hair, making the red almost look like flames on her head.

Her back was to him, and he reached out to touch her, her soft skin that was so warm on his fingertips.

Catelyn had come over after his call. He needed a favor, he needed her not to judge him or ask too many questions, he needed her.

It sounded shady, he admitted when she arrived. He could tell she was expecting him to ask her to bury a body, but she’d come even with that in mind.

“There’s a cupboard,” he told her. “I need you to empty it and take what’s in it away. And then leave the cupboard open, so I can see.”

He led her to the kitchen and pointed at it, keeping his eyes away from it, like Seaworth had told him too.

His pulse was already beating too fast just talking about it, but he had to do this much. 

_ Only this and no more. _

“Lannister, I can’t do anything illegal.”

He laughed, a nervous, high-pitched monstrosity he’d never heard come out of him before. “It’s not illegal, I assure you.”

He thought she would laugh with him, or at him, but her face was clouded with concern, her worry lines prominent in her frown.

“Alright, I’ll do this,” she said. She reached out to pat his arm, but pulled it back at the last minute. “Do you have a trashbag?”

He nodded toward the pantry, and left the room, his heart couldn’t take anymore.

He heard her gasp as she opened it, probably expecting something hideous or bloody, but no, just glasses that would drive him mad if he left them around.

“These are beautiful,” she said, loud enough for him to hear. “Can I keep them?”

A wave of irritation fell over him, causing him to chuckle at how happy he was to feel something other than panic.

“Keep them, sell them, throw them against a wall, I don’t care, just please, get them out of here.”

She laughed then, and he heard her gently put them in a bag.

“I’ll leave them outside, then I’ll come back,” she told him as she opened the door.

He felt lighter when she left. He walked into the kitchen, and she had left the cupboard open for him, and there was nothing in it but dust.

He wanted to cry at the sight of it, to know that they wouldn’t hurt him anymore.

She opened the door, and he turned to face her and without another thought, he scooped her up into a hug, pressing her warm body to him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She gently put her arms around him, rubbing his back as she had in the store all those months ago.

He could feel a sob coming on, but he drew in a breath, smothering it as he let her go.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She was close enough that he could smell her perfume, some floral scent that he liked, it was soft and unobtrusive, just like her.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. 

She reached up and brushed his cheek with her hand, and on impulse, that’s the only way he could explain it, he held her hand and kissed her palm.

She didn’t pull it back, or recoil from him. She took a step toward him and brought her other hand to his chest, feeling his heart, feeling it pounding, all for her.

He leaned down and kissed her, and he knew he shouldn’t, but he didn’t want to stop, and he couldn’t stop when she kissed him back.

As he stroked her back, she woke up and turned toward him.

Catelyn greeted him with a sad smile, and she brushed his hair back behind his ears.

“I have to go,” she whispered as she stood up. “The kids are with their grandfather, but they’re coming home tomorrow morning.”

He watched her get dressed, and he wanted to pull her back to him, to take her again and again until they both had something to fill this emptiness inside.

“You don’t have to go,” he said, cursing himself for the desperate tone in his voice.

She pulled her shirt over her head, and sat next to him on the bed.

“I do though,” she said as she grabbed his hand and kissed his palm this time. “But thank you. Thank you.”

She kissed him on the top of his head and walked out.

He laid there, and he wanted to feel thankful, happy to have had a break from the misery. 

Instead, he stared at the ceiling as the light faded, ignoring the water falling from his eyes.

He tried to remember Tyrion's laugh, the way he clutched his sides while watching a movie he loved, but it was gone.

_ Just like him _

He clung to her pillow, letting her lingering scent surround him as he drifted off to sleep.

**October 2015**

She watched him in the backseat as he swayed in place and pulled on his seat belt.

“Where are we going?” he whined, his voice low and slurred, and Brienne silently fumed.

_ “Please, just make sure he gets home okay,” Sergeant Stark had asked her. “I’ll owe you one.” _

As he started singing with a voice that should only be used to torture enemies, she thought to herself that this favor had better be a good one.

“Where are we going?” he asked again, stopping his vocal performance long enough to whine at her some more.

“Mr. Lannister, I’m taking you home.”

“No,” he said, almost mewling at her. “I don’t want to go there. There’s no one there but ghosts.”

He stopped talking then, and she got a look at him as she stopped at a red light. His face was drawn, tight even, and red, like he’d been crying.

“Don’t,” he whispered as he looked up at her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “Please.”

She was alone at the light as it turned green, and she kept the car there. 

He looked so sad, her heart clenched as she saw tears leaking from his eyes.

_ What’s the harm? _

She turned right, to her home.

She called Sergeant Stark when she pulled up to her apartment and told her she couldn’t come back.

“I’m afraid to leave him alone,” she whispered, hoping he was so drunk he wouldn’t notice her chatter.

“That’s fine officer. See you tomorrow.”

He was not helpful at all; his legs were nearly jelly, and she had to heave him out of her car, keeping him upright as she locked up her squad car.

“This isn’t home,” he said, surprise in his voice.

“No, it’s my home,” she huffed as she dragged him to the front door. “You’re staying here.”

“Forever?” he asked as his face lit up. “Forever and ever?”

She laughed, but only on the inside, she needed to keep her strength as she walked for both of them. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

She got them inside, and he nearly fell as his feet didn’t quite make it over the stoop, but she caught him in time.

She half dragged, half carried him to her bedroom. 

She set him on her bed as gently as she could, and as she expected, he immediately fell over. She pulled off his shoes and emptied his pockets, keeping all his pieces together on the floor.

“It’s the ocean,” he said, too loudly. “I’m spinning in the ocean, but I’m still dry.”

The ocean, her ocean, she had painted the walls herself, the ceiling too, drawing swirls of blue and white and grey together until it felt like the shore she remembered watching on her childhood trips to the Fingers. 

She wasn’t much of an artist, but she’d loved painting it, making this room just for her, and it was all hers. 

She looked down at him, and he looked peaceful in sleep. She shifted him so he was on his side, and his eyes opened at the sight of her.

“Forever and ever,” he said as he closed his eyes again.

She rubbed her head for him, trying to soothe him and she felt him lean into her touch. She pulled the blanket over him and left him to sleep on her couch, trying her best not to think of his mournful eyes pleading with her.

**January 2013**

_Tywin_ _Tywin_ _Tywin_ _Tywin_  
_Gerion_ _Gerion_ _Gerion_ _Gerion_  
_Emmon_ _Emmon_ _Emmon_ _Emmon_  
_Cersei_ _Cersei_ _Cersei_ _Cersei_  
_Tyrion_ _Tyrion_ _Tyrion_ _Tyrion_  
_Lancel_ _Lancel_ _Lancel_ _Lancel_  
_Cleos_ _Cleos_ _Cleos_ _Cleos  
__Tommen_ _Tommen_ _Tommen_ _Tommen_

Jaime repeated their names as he stretched his muscles, preparing for his big fight, the biggest opponent he would face.

He felt them with him, urging him on, urging him to fight for them the only way he could.

Aerys. The King they called him, because he had a way of always coming out on top. 

The Mad King they called him in whispers. He had those eyes, bright purple, which gleamed with something dangerous in the ring.

But Jaime was ready, he’s been taking any bouts he could, because with his fists, he could beat back any thoughts he wanted. In the ring, the world fell away, leaving only him and his opponent.

He took off his robe, a deep red cloak with a golden lion on the back. The Lion was his name, and he earned it, he would roar with pride whenever he won and roar with frustration when he lost.

Aerys looked at him, those cold eyes pouring over his muscled body, and Jaime felt a prickle of unease in the back of his mind, a small voice, like Tommen’s, telling him to run.

But he forgot the voice when the bell rang, and he struck first, a quick jab to Aerys’ face that caused him to stumble backward. Jaime was on him again, if he had one flaw it was that he could not back down.

_ Not ever _

He pinned Aerys to the ropes, keeping in place as he punched the man’s torso without mercy.

“You want to stop, Lion,” Aerys whispered to him, so softly Jaime doubted his lips even moved.

Jaime was so startled he stepped back, Aerys hit him with a left hook, and now it was Jaime’s turn to stumble.

He recovered and stood up in time to dodge a right cross, and then hit Aerys in the chest when the bell dinged.

Aerys grinned at him, a feral grin with his teeth exposed, and he licked his lips.

The bell dinged again, and this time Aerys nearly ran to him, but just stood there.

“You need to stop, Lion.”

Jaime jabbed him in the stomach, and the man didn’t flinch, didn’t even move, just stared at him with those piercing eyes.

Jaime backed away from him, not even denying to himself that he was afraid of the look in the man’s eyes, a hungry look, a look that would frighten children in their beds.

Aerys took one step toward him, close enough to hit him, but he just leaned forward, his lips pressed to Jaime’s ear.

“You’ll stop or I’ll make your niece and your nephew wish they had departed.”

In a second, a flash, Jaime remembered another boxer, Denys the Dark they called him, and he was nothing special, but his stamina was legendary. And he had fought Aerys and won, and shortly after that bout, Denys’ wife had been murdered, stabbed repeatedly and then her body burned.

Denys had died a few weeks later, in a suicide or an accident, the coroner couldn’t be sure. 

He heard Tommen’s voice in his head then, telling him to run, but he brushed it aside as he saw red.

_ You’re safe, little one. You’re safe. _

He pulled all his strength into his right arm and punched the monster in front of him. He stumbled, fell to his knees, but Jaime would not be calmed. Something wild and ancient had awoken in him, a beast born of grief and rage, and this beast would stop at nothing to protect what family he had left.

The refs finally got a hold of him, pinning his arms in place as the doctor hovered over Aerys’ bloody body.

The red left his vision only when Jaime saw the doctor shake his head when he checked for a pulse.

_ Good _

**October 2014**

“How have you been?”

Seaworth looked at him, without judgement, no expectations, and Jaime still wanted to run from his gaze.

“It’s been two years,” he said, his voice cracking on the bitter words. “Two years, and there are still no answers for what happened to my family, and I can’t decide if I should be enraged or depressed about that.”

Seaworth nodded at him but said nothing, just wrote some words on the pad.

“Do I have to choose between those two?” he asked, with a hint of his old mockery in his voice. 

Seaworth laughed at that. “No, you can have both.”

Seaworth again looked at his notes, wrote some more down, but still said nothing.

“Can I ask you something?” Jaime said, anything to break the tension hanging in the room.

Seaworth nodded, and Jaime scrambled to think of a question, something to throw the man off guard, something to get his attention from that pad.

“Did you know anyone who Departed?”

It was an awful thing to ask, an awful thing to hear, and he watched as Seaworth sucked in his breath but didn’t look up.

“My wife’s cousin,” he said, still looking down. He sighed then and looked away from Jaime, out the window. It was a gray day, chilly and windy, just what Tyrion loved.

“And our son. Devan.”

Jaime watched as the man shuddered, but then put the memory away. He turned back to Jaime with a haunted look in his eye.

“And you,” Seaworth said. “We know who you lost. But have you thought about what you gained?”

Jaime felt a wisp of rage flit through him, but those kind eyes pulled him back. “I don’t mean to suggest that you are better off without your family. We are almost never better off without the people we love.”

He took a breath to get his thoughts in order. Jaime had never seen the man so flustered, but it was D-Day, it was a time for the unexpected.

“But from what you told me, your family was not known for being kind to you. And now you’re free to find out who you are without them.”

Jaime’s heart clenched at Seaworth’s words, his very organs rejecting this betrayal of his family, of the people he loved best.

Tyrion, who needed his big brother to protect him, and tease him when he got too full of himself.

Cersei, who needed her golden twin to keep her safe from the worst of men, even from himself.

And Tywin, his cold father, who needed someone to protect his children from the worst side of himself.

_ Did I ever need them? _

He looked at Seaworth, his eyes full of tears and his heart breaking again at the very idea.

“I don’t know who I am without them,” he whispered. 

Seaworth nodded. “Maybe it’s time to find out.”

**First date**

“You’re easy to talk to,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, but she’d heard him.

“Really?” she said, a slight smile on her face.

He nodded, his grin falling into place. “I feel like I could tell you all my secrets, and you would keep them safe for me.”

“All your secrets?” she whispered conspiratorially.

_ All of them _

He felt a stirring in his chest, they weren’t just words. He meant them in his bones, in his soul.

“All of them.”

He could feel his mind start to scream as she looked at him, those soft eyes boring into him, demanding nothing from him but everything he had.

“I was a boxer,” he said. 

She nodded.

“Only for a little while. I quit after my last match, and later I was banned for life, so there was no going back.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him, taking his painful words into her body, keeping his secrets.

“In that last match, my opponent...Aerys...he died.”

She sucked in breath, but still stayed silent.

“He asked me to throw the match, to give up in the ring, and he said if I didn’t, he would kill my niece and nephew.”

He took a drink, his hands shaking.

“Something just broke inside me, and I kept punching him until he stopped moving.”

He looked down at his hands then, still feeling the blood on them.

“Did you tell anyone?”

He shook his head. “I knew, they didn’t want to know. And my uncle and I settled with his wife. And the organization banned me, and it was over.”

“You kept them safe.”

She said the words, like that’s all that mattered, that all that pain was settled, that the dirty looks and whispers were worth it.

Her eyes were hard now, like the sea after a storm.

_ She’s my safe harbor _

She smiled at him and reached for his hand and shyly but firmly squeezed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter trivia! The man following Jaime is Catelyn's Uncle Brynden Tully, who would do anything for his favorite niece.


	7. The Love I Need To Carry On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Sugar World" by The Magnetic Fields. It's a cute little song about pining from a narrator with slightly unhealthy boundaries.
> 
> "Please forgive me for all the things I've done.  
Sugar give me the love I need to carry on living.  
Living without you I'd just die  
With you, with you I can hold my head up high  
And tell the crowd that I'm so proud  
It makes me want to cry"
> 
> And I've finally figured out the chapter count! The story will end in chapter 9, and 10 is going to be some snippets that I wrote but didn't see a good way to include in the main narrative; they're canon, but just some little happy moments for our couple.

**December 2015**

He knocked on her door and waited.

_ This is a mistake, I should leave, I should go home now and never come back. _

But despite his doubts he kept his feet in place.

He’d finally had the courage to tell his family that he couldn’t host Sevenmas anymore; it was too sad for all of them, and he never felt their losses more as when they were all together.

Kevan nodded and hugged him, too tightly, but Jaime hugged him back. Genna being Genna, she had laughed and said “Good for you” and then went back to her day drinking.

_ I always knew you were my favorite. _

He smiled to himself as Arya opened the door. With a scowl, and the grimmest “Happy Sevenmas” he’d ever heard, she let him in and pointed to the dining room.

As instructed in her invite, he’d brought a dish, just mashed potatoes that he hoped would be up to Catelyn's standards.

He set the dish down, and followed the voices outside. 

Arya had resumed her place in line, and she and her siblings were practicing Tai-Chi. Arya and her brother Robb were clearly the best, Jaime could tell, their lines and movements were smooth and graceful (and lethal, Jaime thought).

Sansa, Bran and Rickon were clearly there because they had nothing better to do, and Rickon kept bursting into giggles as he fell over and over. Arya scowled at him, but there was a lightness in her eyes too; she was happy, even while pretending to be mad.

And leading the Stark kids in this routine was  _ Brienne. _

Sapphire eyes, tall and strong, she went from kid to kid, correcting their movements, and showing them again and again how to do what she knew by heart.

He had wanted to call her, but he knew better. She spooked easy, Catelyn had told him, and his bodyguard was right. All through dinner, she had been charming and quiet, and he knew if he pushed too hard, she would run.

He chuckled to himself, realizing that Catelyn had asked him, insisted on his coming, because of her.

_ Sly little fish _

He stepped into the backyard, and Brienne stopped as she saw him, a blush hitting her cheeks, reddening her face. It only made Jaime want to kiss her even more, but he held back.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said. 

But she was frozen as she looked at him, and Catelyn came to her rescue. “Kids, go get washed up before dinner.”

She led her brood inside, and she winked at him as she passed, leaving him alone with Brienne in the backyard.

He walked up to her grinning as her blush deepened.

“You didn’t call,” he said.

She looked at him with  _ those eyes _ and he saw the fear in them.

“No,” she whispered.

_ “Be careful with her,” Catelyn said. “Or I’ll have to hurt you.” _

He looked around the yard, giving her a break from his gaze. “Do you teach just anyone Tai-Chi?”

She laughed. “Just them,” she said with a shy smile. “They needed it.”

She didn’t say any more, but he knew there was more there. Tyrion would never let this drop, Cersei either, but he would do better.

He stepped closer to her and cupped his hand around her ear. “I think this is a setup,” he whispered, and she giggled, and his heart melted at the sound.

“Catelyn stopped just short of ordering me to come here,” she said. “And I think if I hadn’t said yes, she would have.”

Catelyn opened the door then, glancing at both of them with a grin on her face. “Dinner’s ready.”

He was surprised to find himself sitting between Bran and Sansa, but when Brienne took the seat opposite him, he understood. 

He listened to the chatter, enjoying the food they offered him, but he couldn’t look away from her. Even if he’d wanted to,  _ those eyes _ kept drawing him in, pulling him to her.

And she kept smiling, laughing at Arya’s antics or Bran’s experiments, and he never heard a word.

At one point, he saw Arya get up and when she returned, she had a downright devilish grin on her face as she smiled at her mother.

_ Not sure I want to know what that’s about. _

But as the evening wound down, Jaime felt the cold weight return to his chest. He knew his apartment was waiting for him, filled with painful memories and missing relatives, and he didn’t want to leave, but the kids were clearing the table, and Catelyn brought him his coat, and he knew it was time.

At the door, Catelyn hugged Brienne and handed her a small box. “Happy Sevenmas,” she said. “Open it later though.”

Brienne blushed and hugged the woman again before leaving.

Catelyn hugged Jaime quickly, and he caught the smell of her perfume, but she pulled away before the memory could overwhelm him. 

“You’re present is in your car,” she said as she kissed his cheek. “Good luck.”

He looked at her, and she smirked.

He walked to his car, and Brienne was standing next to it, a frown on her face.

“Your tires,” she said as she pointed down, and he had to stifle his laugh. All four of them had been slashed, no doubt by the brunette tween he’d had dinner with.

“Well,” he said, trying to swallow his laughter. “I’d hate to call a tow on Sevenmas. Can I have a ride?”

She sighed, but with only a hint of irritation in it. “Just tell me you didn’t have a hand in this.”

“My hands are clean,” he said as they walked to her car.

It was a short drive to his apartment, too short for his liking. She didn’t talk to him, wouldn’t look at him and he wanted to tease her about it, but he didn’t have the energy. He could feel his real life coming back to him, and it was sucking the joy from his body.

“I’ll walk you in,” Brienne said as she left the car in the hotel driveway.

He hadn’t expected that, or her hand on his arm as she turned his body toward hers.

She kissed him, pinning him against a wall and running her hands through his hair. He kissed her back, reaching behind her, pulling her body closer to his.

“I guess I owe you another dinner,” he said between kisses. “Tomorrow work for you?”

She shook her head. “I work. Night after?”

He nodded as he kissed her softly on her lips. “I’ll pick you up at 8.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away. Until he did. She blushed at him, and he smiled back and waved.

**December 2017**

Jaime was nervous.

Brienne watched him as he kept hoping on his feet, keeping himself moving because he didn’t know what to do with all this energy inside him.

“He’s my father, Jaime, not the king. You’ll be fine.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed as the door opened and Charlotte welcomed them into their home.

She hugged Brienne fiercely, and Brienne hugged her back. They had only met once, but Charlotte was a prolific email writer.

They started out simple, with a quick How are you doing? How was your weekend? How is the job treating you?

Brienne responded of course, but nothing longer than a paragraph, and no real details.

And then, when Charlotte and Selwyn had moved into their home, Charlotte had sent her a photo of the view from the patio; blue-green water lazily hitting the soft sand, the sun had almost dipped behind a cloud.

Brienne couldn’t hold back, and she sent her photos of the bedroom she had painted, the same bedroom she had recreated in the penthouse,  _ their  _ penthouse. 

And they couldn't stop swapping photos of the ocean, and just like that, Brienne was friends with her dad’s girlfriend, a woman she wrote to more than her dad.

This visit was Charlotte’s idea; she had told both her dad and Charlotte about their engagement, but they hadn’t met Jaime, hadn’t gotten a chance to engage with a Lannister charm offensive, and Charlotte insisted that this Sevenmas was the right time for it.

Charlotte let go of her and threw herself at Jaime, hugging his torso as he awkwardly tried to find a way out of her grasp.

Brienne chuckled to herself as Jaime inevitably hugged Charlotte back.

“Dad?” Brienne called out, and there was her father, still the mountain she remembered him being as he embraced her, too tightly still.

“And this must be your young man,” Selwyn said as he extended his hand to Jaime, who grasped it and held on, keeping his face still as her father pulled him into another hug.

“Dad, Jaime’s not used to that,” she said, stifling a giggle.

“It’s fine,” Jaime said as he caught his breath. “It’s a nice change.”

He smiled at them, that smile that could power a city for three days straight, and Brienne chuckled to herself.

_ Let the offensive begin _

Her boyfriend, her fiance she reminded herself as she looked at her ring for the thousandth time, could charm a bear, she decided as their dinner wrapped up. He’d kept her father laughing, he kept Charlotte blushing with the compliments on her centerpiece, a metal elk she had crafted herself, and the food, which even Brienne would admit was the best feast she’d ever eaten.

And he never let go of her hand, keeping her in mind all through their meal.

He squeezed her hand, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she spontaneously leaned over and kissed him, in front of her dad, in front of Charlotte, in front of the gods themselves.

_ We survived the world ending, we deserve this _

She looked at her family, the little pieces left of it, but even with their pain, their was still room for it to grow.

_ Same for us _

“Excuse me,” she said as she stood up, wiping her eyes. She didn’t want to cry here, especially if she would have to explain why. This happiness was too foreign to deal with rationally.

She dabbed her eyes as she heard a knock on the bathroom.

“It’s me,” Jaime whispered.

She opened the door to him, and he came in, kissing her before hugging her.

“You’re crying?” he said.

She shook her head at him. “Because I’m happy. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

She kissed him as he nodded. “Quite ridiculous. So ridiculous that we shant be welcome in this establishment ever again due to your tomfoolery.”

She playfully patted him on the arm.

“Oh Freckles, you’re so violent when you’re happy.”

She snorted, actually snorted, and he laughed at her so much she had no choice but to bat his arm again.

He kissed her again before leaving her alone. “I think your father mentioned something about Charades?”

“We’re doomed,” she said with a grin on her face. “He’s a master.”

“Good thing he’s on my team,” Jaime said as he ran off and closed the door behind him.

She opened the door, to chase after him, when she felt her phone buzz. Without a thought, she picked it up, and saw Catelyn calling her.

“Hi Sarge,” Brienne said. She still called her that, even though Catelyn had retired once again to spend more time with her kids.

“Brienne,” said a tearful voice, a girl’s voice.

“Brienne,” Arya said again, even softer this time. “It’s Mom. She’s hurt.”

**February 2018**

“How are you doing?”

Jaime looked at Seaworth, and told him the truth.

“Ups and downs. Catelyn’s death...it was a shock, and Brienne has taken it so hard. And it’s hard for me to tell her how I feel when she’s so upset.”

There were so many scenes in his head, him and Brienne, together in bed after the funeral, clinging to each other, comforting each other, holding each other, but no words, never any words.

“She’s there for me, I know that, but I don’t know how to make her hear that I’m there for  _ her  _ too _ . _ ”

“Have you tried?” Seaworth asked him, his eyes kind but his words like daggers in Jaime’s chest.

_ Have I tried? _

He would hold her, they took turns, but she would always get up too soon, before her tears stopped.

“Have you told her what you just told me?”

“We can’t,” he said softly. “We can’t talk about it yet.”

Seaworth nodded.

“Grief can twist you into a person you never wanted to be,” Seaworth said. “And you’re both grieving. It could help her to know what you’re feeling. And vice versa.”

_ What am I feeling? _

_ Catelyn was my guardian, my lover, the woman who looked out for me, and she died after the world ended, and none of this makes any sense. _

“Which do you think is worse?” Jaime asked, trying to get away from these awful thoughts. “Death or departure?”

Seaworth raised his eyebrows, fully aware of what Jaime was doing.

“Depends on the day,” he said. “Some days, I like the idea of thinking my son is still alive, just nowhere I can reach him. Other days, I think it would have been easier if he’d died, because then I could properly grieve for him.”

_ Was that right? _

_ If my family had been killed in a car accident six years ago, all eight of them snuffed out in some event, would it be easier than this, this not knowing, this dread that it could happen again? _

_ Is it easier to think that they’re just out of reach, or know forever that they are gone? _

Seaworth stood up then.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short,” he said. “I’ll show you out.”

**January 2018**

Sansa had put off her mother’s funeral as long as she could, hoping that Robb would wake up in enough time to attend, but in the end, her uncle had persuaded her that it was time.

Brienne stood next to her at the grave, she couldn’t yet think of it as Catelyn’s grave.

_ Not yet _

Jaime stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder as she had each arm wrapped around the Stark girls.

Sansa was crying, but silently, letting the tears fall across her pale face as she kept her composure. Arya had either cried herself out, or hadn’t begun. She clutched Brienne’s arm and scowled at the ground.

_ “I wasn’t fast enough,” she whispered in the phone. “I couldn’t get there in time, I wasn’t fast enough.” _

It had taken 15 minutes on the phone with Arya before she’d understood. Catelyn had picked Robb up at the airport, and they had gotten into an accident, the police would tell her later that it appeared Catelyn skidded on the ice, possibly trying to avoid something in the road, and driven into a small ravine.

Robb was still in a coma, but the doctors were hopeful he would recover when the swelling in his brain went down.

But Catelyn…

It had been no accident. She’d had a heart attack while driving, the coroner told them, and that’s what killed her. She’d been suffering for months, her heart always on the edge of giving out, and she’d kept it to herself to spare them all from worrying.

_ I wish you were here so I could scream at you for that. _

Brienne had tried to tell that to Arya, that there was nothing she could have done, but the girl would not listen, to her, to her sister, not even Catelyn’s uncle who was now her guardian.

_ I have to be strong for them. I can fall apart later. _

Brienne squeezed Arya tighter, Sansa too, as the coffin, as Catelyn, was lowered into the ground. Brienne jumped at the sound of the thud when the coffin hit the ground. Sansa finally broke then, letting out her sob and burying her face in Brienne’s side.

Arya let go of Brienne’s hand and stalked off, walking away from her fellow mourners as the Septon began speaking. Brienne saw Brynden follow her, keeping her safe from herself, and keeping others safe from her.

Jaime walked up next to her, holding her hand, and squeezing too hard. Brienne looked at him and saw the tears on his face, and she squeezed back.

**February 2018**

Jaime came home late.

He had texted her, to let her know, but still she greeted him at the door with a full body embrace and a hint of tears in her eyes.

She didn’t say she’d been afraid for him, but he knew. He’d worried too, but he couldn’t get home any earlier.

With a quick kiss of her cheek, he grabbed her hand and led her to the couch.

“I want to show you something,” he said as he pulled out a folder.

His bank manager, Illyn Payne, had looked at him dubiously when he’d approached him with the idea, but Jaime insisted and Payne finally accepted that he was of sound mind and body and got on board with his plan.

He handed Brienne the folder.

“I wanted to do something for the Starks. She meant so much to us.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at the papers in front of her, at five trust funds set up for Catelyn’s children.

“It won’t replace her, but it will give them each a hand in life,” he said. He pointed to a paragraph at the end. “They get access to the money at 18, if they go to college. And if they don’t, they can have it when they turn 25.”

_ Half a million each. Those kids are worth every penny. _

She looked at him.

“It’s so much,” she whispered. She reached up and stroked his cheek, running her thumb over mouth, like he liked.

“It’s Catelyn,” he said as he leaned into her hand.

She leaned into him, her head in his lap as she let the tears flow and he rubbed her back.

“I’m here for you,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

She cried harder, but grabbed his hand and squeezed with all her might.

**August 2016**

“I’d like to meet your family,” she said quietly. They were in bed together, and he was already drifting off to sleep, but that opened his eyes quickly.

“Really?” he said sleepily. “Those assholes?”

He chuckled, but she knew better. He talked about them and their faults to make you think he hated them, but he loved them all, monsters or not.

“Yes, I’d like to meet those assholes,” she said flatly, and he laughed harder.

He yawned, a big, over the top yawn meant to stall his next words, but she wasn’t fooled.

“OK,” he said. “We do this family thing once a month, the next one is on Saturday. I’ll let them know we’ll need a place for one more.”

He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “You’re in luck, Robert’s coming.”

He chuckled to himself as he drifted off.

**August 2016**

She had asked to come.

She could feel the butterflies hopping in her stomach, and Jaime held her hand as he knocked loudly on the door. 

An older man opened the door, and he reached for Jaime and pulled him into a quick embrace.

“Be warned,” he said. “Robert’s already drunk.”

_ Brunch hasn’t even started _

Jaime raised an eyebrow at the man and tilted his head in Brienne’s direction. He held out his hand to her. “I’m Kevan, Jaime’s uncle. Welcome to my house.”

He held the door for them and took their coats and ushered them into the living room, where sat an older woman, a man a little older than Jaime, and two teens engrossed in their phones.

“Brienne, this is my Aunt Genna, and that’s Robert, my brother-in-law,” he said as Genna stood up to grab her hand. 

“Ex brother in law!” Robert shouted and Jaime winced. Jaime had told her as soon as the courts opened up the idea of divorce for departed spouses, Robert applied. She placed her hand on his arm and he squeezed her hand before dropping it.

Jaime pointed to the sofa. “These are Cersei’s kids, Joffrey and Myrcella.”

They nodded, but didn’t look up. She couldn’t blame them, if she’d been able too, she would have hidden herself away too at their age.

Robert stood up and shouted something incoherent at the TV, clutching his bottle like his life depended on it.

Jaime leaned in to her and kissed her quickly on her cheek. “I did try to warn you,” he said with a hint of ‘I told you so’ in his eyes.

She grimaced, but laughed as Genna laughed too. “You’re a kind boy Jaime,” Genna said.

“No cousins today?” Jaime asked. 

“All at school or out having fun without us to bring them down,” she said with a sly grin on her face.

“Wish I’d had that choice,” Joffrey muttered. Brienne looked at him and noticed for the first time that he was sporting two black eyes, fresh ones if she was guessing.

Jaime noticed too and winced. “What happened to your face Joffrey?”

“He had it coming, been saying that for years,” Robert slurred while Joffrey went back to his phone with a sulky look on his face.

“He mouthed off to a bully, and this one didn’t take it as well as the rest of us do,” Myrcella said, still not looking up from her phone. 

Joffrey stood up then, sneered at all of them, then headed into a back bedroom for some peace.

Myrcella snorted at him. “You’re too sensitive bro!” she shouted before he slammed the door.

Brienne had no idea what to say, and as silence settled over the room, she could feel a blush 

reddening on her face. She looked at Jaime, sure he could see the startled look in her eyes, and he led her outside for some fresh air.

“This is your family?” she asked, with both a smile and a hint of horror on her face.

He grinned at her. “Yes, although the picture is not complete without Joffrey teasing Genna’s kids, who are all older than him, but terrified of the little brat. Or Kevan’s kids, who don’t like Joffrey’s teasing, but don’t especially like Genna’s kids, so they try to play both sides against the other until they’re all sniping at each other without mercy.”

He kissed her, and she laughed at them. 

“Robert is kind of the wild card, because if he’s drunk he has a way of drawing all the focus on him, keeping us in place so we can judge him freely, but if he starts playing the part of a good father and staying sober, he starts battling with the kids, and it’s just total mayhem.”

He kissed her again, and she couldn’t help but think of her family gatherings, a dinner with her dad where they wouldn’t talk much, but they just enjoyed being together.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked her. “Kevan and Genna will understand, trust me, and Robert won’t even remember.”

She nodded, ashamed, but he laughed at her. “But we’re here,” she said before he could walk away from her. “And I’m no coward,” she said as she heard shouting from inside the house.

“Good answer,” he whispered as he kissed her again and they walked back inside together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned in an earlier note about Robert's losses on Departure Day, and I like to think this little scene with him explores what that lead to for him and his children. With Cersei gone, he has to take more on an interest in Joffrey, who lost his chief enabler and is still a little shit, but now with a parent who won't excuse his crap. His sister never would, she used to be the buffer so he couldn't torment their younger brother so much, and now she teases him relentlessly (and he deserves it). 
> 
> And with no Baratheons to hang out with, Robert is pretty much stuck with the Lannisters for family; they don't like each other, not really, but they know that they are all that's left, and the might as well stick together. That's something I think would happen, you would cling to anyone left, no matter your feelings about them. He's always invited to the Lannisters for Sunday brunch, and he shows up slightly more than half the time.
> 
> I also like to imagine Catelyn recruiting Arya for her 'mission,' and as soon as Catelyn says "I need you to slash - " Arya jumps in with "I'm in!"
> 
> RIP little fish. :(


	8. How To Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter is here!
> 
> Chapter title comes from "How to Say Goodbye" by The Magnetic Fields. This chapter isn't really about romantic rejection like that song, but it is a goodbye to some of the secondary characters we've spent some time with (and inching closer to saying goodbye to our main characters too).
> 
> "The only thing that I could ever feel  
I can't believe it wasn't real  
The only thing that I could ever feel  
I can't believe it wasn't real  
You can't open your mouth  
without telling a lie  
but baby, you know how to say goodbye"
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> And again, thank you for reading. It means a lot that this story that I loved creating has found an audience. <3 <3 <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun bit of trivia for this chapter: I have an "LA Confidential" and "Angel" reference in here, can you spot them?

**July 2017**

“Brienne,” Catelyn whispered as she stood next to Brienne, hovering over her.

“Come talk to me,” she said as she motioned toward her office. Brienne followed her, with a sense of unease coming over her.

Catelyn closed the door behind her and drew the blinds closed, and Brienne’s radar starting shooting up, but Catelyn placed a hand on her arm.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong.”

She gestured at a chair, and Catelyn sat next to her, and pointed toward the filled glasses on her desk.

Catelyn grabbed one and Brienne grabbed the other.

“A toast,” Catelyn said as she raised her glass. “I’m retiring. It’s my last day.”

Brienne raised her glass but inside she felt numb at the woman’s words. Catelyn was not her mother, she couldn’t ever lose her mother again she reminded herself, but she knew that without Catelyn, this job would forever be different, and she did not welcome the change.

“Congratulations,” she said, trying to put some happiness in her voice, but she saw the look of concern on Catelyn’s face and knew she had failed.

Catelyn laughed as she looked over Brienne. “Don’t think this is an excuse to stay out of my life,” she said. “I worry about you too much to not have you on my radar.”

Brienne took a sip and recoiled at the harsh taste of the whiskey.

“Ned liked the stuff,” Catelyn said as she grimaced at her glass. “I don’t, but I drink it and it reminds me so much of him. Hard and strong and both too much and never enough.”

She looked away from Brienne as her smile fell. Catelyn took another drink and shuddered, then finished off the glass.

“How have you been?” Catelyn said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much, but the kids decided to trade bronchitis, and I needed to be there.”

Brienne smiled, and understood. She hadn’t taken a drink, she couldn’t she reminded herself.

_ You can now _

She drew in a breath, remembering, letting the pain and the relief and the guilt spill over her. She had recovered, she knew that, but sometimes she forgot and thought about her baby, their baby, that was never to be.

She took a drink, letting the bitter alcohol warm her insides, hoping it would touch that place in her where no comfort could reach.

“I’m okay,” she said, with that same flatness she could not keep out of her voice these days.

Catelyn nodded and patted her arm.

“I had a miscarriage, a year after Rickon was born. Ned was so torn up by it that he got a vasectomy so it wouldn’t happen again.”

She looked at the glass in her hand and before Brienne could stop her, she hurled it at the wall, and it exploded. Brienne jumped at the crash, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Catelyn, who barely moved.

“I was so furious at him, to make a choice like that without even talking to me about it,” she said, her voice so calm.

“For years, we had that same fight, over and over, and now…” she looked at Brienne then, her eyes glassy. “I’d give almost anything to be able to scream at him again. For leaving us, for loving us, for all of it.”

She reached again for Brienne’s arm, and patted her arm. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a hard day, and I’m feeling morose and making it all about me because I can.”

She grabbed another glass from her desk and took another drink. 

“Why did you become a cop?” Catelyn asked her, and Brienne reached back into her mind for her standard answer.

“I wanted to help people. I wanted to stop the bad guys from hurting people.”

Catelyn smiled at her. “Liar,” she said with a chuckle. “You become a cop after the Departure, right?”

Brienne’s face was flushed, from both the booze and Catelyn’s gaze, but she nodded.

“You left school for this?”

“After that day, school didn’t seem to matter.”

“Something my children would agree with.” She took another drink, and Brienne could see it was starting to get to her. 

“You became a cop the same reason everybody did after Departure Day. Because you felt helpless and you didn’t want to feel helpless anymore. It’s why I came back. It’s why you stay, it’s why you hold back from everyone.”

Catelyn stood up too fast, and she started swaying and Brienne caught her and held her upright.

“It’s why you’re so scared of being left, you don’t even realize you’re the one leaving.”

Catelyn laughed then, a mean, high pitched thing as she threw her arms around Brienne, hugging her tightly.

She starting crying into Brienne’s shoulder, and as confused as she was, Brienne held her tightly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Catelyn said between her tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Brienne felt her own tears then but she wiped them away as Catelyn released her.

“Why did you become a cop?” Brienne whispered, aching to change the subject, anything to get away from these messy feelings Catelyn seemed determined to explore.

“I don’t remember,” Catelyn said with a haunted look in her eye.

Brienne kept those words in mind as she drove her friend home for the last time.

**July 2018**

A knock at the door in the middle of the day was not something that happened, well, ever.

He stepped out of his office and opened his front door, and there was his Aunt Genna, pale and shaking on his doorstep.

“Come in,” he said. He could practically feel the unease on her skin as she started pacing around his living room.

“Have you heard of this?” Genna said as she waved a pamphlet in his face. “Have they contacted you?”

He grabbed the paper from her, and his eyes focused on the words, they were big enough that they didn’t dance too much.

_ Where did the departed go? _

** _WE KNOW_ **

_ Ask yourself if you want to know too _

There was an email address and nothing else on the slim paper. Even the back was blank.

She looked at him, her eyes watery and panicked. “Who are these people, that they would play with us like that?”

He reached out to her, to hold her arm, but she backed away from him. “I’m fine, I just need a minute.”

She took a breath and shook her hands at her side, like she was shaking all those bad feelings out of her head.

“Can you find them? And stop them? I don’t want Kevan seeing this. Seven hells, I don’t even want Robert seeing this.”

Jaime laughed, and Genna joined him. “He’s a bastard, but he doesn’t deserve that.”

Jaime shook his head. “No, he doesn’t.” He took the pamphlet from her and she seemed glad to have it out of her grasp.

“I’ll ask Brienne to look into it, she probably knows people who can stop them.”

Genna nodded and left without another word.

He looked at the paper in his hand, hoping for more answers, hoping that it was just a scam.

_ What would I do if it’s real? _

He felt that old panic hit him again, that drowning feeling when he would see a champagne glass, but he remembered, he breathed through it.

He reached for his phone, he should make an appointment with Seaworth, but then he remembered he couldn’t. Seaworth had abruptly retired last month, with no warning. 

Jaime had felt so hurt by that, but he tried to tell himself it wasn’t personal. He’d had other patients too, but Jaime could not imagine starting over with a new doctor.

Even now, when his breathing started to increase, he just thought of Seaworth’s hand on the back of his neck until he could stay calm.

Still clutching his phone, he pulled up his email.

Genna never asked for anything, he reminded himself. She lost her husband and one of her children, and she never asked for anything from him, not even a drink. 

_ I will do this for her. _

He sent out an email with just a subject line.

_ Where did they go? _

He got a reply two minutes later.

_ Another new world _

_ And we know the way _

_ Join us _

There was an address, a hotel in the Southern Isles, off the main island. 

His heart was racing. 

_ It’s a scam, just a scam, a rotten vile scam meant to hurt us. _

His heart beat even faster.

_ My family is alive _

_ My family is not lost _

**March 2018**

_ I’m supposed to be at home _

The thought kept skipping around her head as she drove down to the school, Arya’s school, where the girl had texted her she was in trouble, and with a groan at Jaime, who had taken the day off from the foundation to be lazy with her, she got in her car and headed out. 

_ I’m supposed to be enjoying a day of doing nothing _

But it was Arya, a girl, she reminded herself, who took every wrong done to her family and imprinted it into her bones, as if a little girl could be responsible for all the misery that had come to them.

And she was in trouble again, she wouldn’t say for what, but Brienne knew that if she was reaching out to her, it had to be bad.

She drove up to the visitors entrance, and outside the principal’s office was Arya, sitting alone on a bench, looking smaller than 15, looking like the little girl Brienne had first met.

Brienne sat next to her and waited.

“Thanks for coming,” she said. “Brynden is talking to the principal, but it’s not looking good.”

Brienne looked at the girl, who wouldn’t meet her eyes. “What happened?”

“Walder Frey the 15th or whatever his dumb name is, he was following me and badgering me, and finally he said Mom was better off dead than having a daughter like me, and I -”

Her voice cut off as she wiped away tears from her face. 

“You hit him?”

Arya nodded. “I jabbed him in the throat, so he would stop talking. And he did.”

Arya still wouldn’t look at her.

“And?”

She sighed. “I punched him in the stomach. And when he fell, I kicked him until one of the teachers pulled me back.”

“Is that all?”

“I may have called him a cunt, though I don’t remember if I said it outloud.”

Brienne held back her chuckle. This was serious, and Arya looked distraught, but she put her arm around the girl and pulled her to her.

“That he deserved,” she whispered. Arya chuckled, but just for a second.

“They’re talking about expelling me. If that happens, we’ll have to move, and it will be all my fault.”

She clung to Brienne then, and she couldn’t stop the tears this time. Brienne petted her head, trying to soothe her as she cried.

“I have an idea,” Brienne whispered. “It might not work, but I wore my uniform for a reason.”

Brienne winked at her, and while Arya didn’t smile, she did stop crying.

Brienne knocked on the principal’s door, and Principal Mordane stood up to greet her.

“Officer,” she said as she held out her hand. “What brings you here?”

She gestured outside. “I’m a family friend of the Starks.”

Mordane lowered her head but gestured to the other chair. Brynden looked red faced, but determined.

“As I was explaining to her uncle, circumstances aside, I don’t have a lot of leeway here. She attacked the boy -”

“Who provoked her,” Brynden growled.

Mordane nodded. “She attacked the boy who provoked her, and a minimum, that’s a suspension. But this is her third fight this year, and the guidelines say she should be expelled.”

Her face was not hard or cold, but sad Brienne thought. 

_ She doesn’t want to do this. I need to give her a reason not too. _

“What if I could offer an alternative?” Brienne said, praying this would work. She didn’t see them as much as she liked, but she needed to know Catelyn’s kids where doing OK, and for that to happen, they needed to stay here.

“An alternative?”

“King’s Landing PD offers a program for troubled kids; it’s a training program where they train as if they are trying to pass an officer’s exam. It’s grueling, and it takes months of after school time to complete. If she enrolls, and sticks with it, after her suspension, could she stay?”

She watched Mordane closely as the woman mulled the idea in her mind. She could practically see the gears working in her brain.

“Considering what’s she’s been through, I’m inclined to grant you this request. But let me be clear; any more fights, any missed sessions of this program, she ditches class to hang with her friends, she’s expelled.”

Brienne nodded, and turned to Brynden, his face a mask, but he nodded too.

“OK then, she’s suspended for 5 days, starting tomorrow.”

Mordane stood up, and Brienne shook her hand, smiling at her.

When she stepped out of the office, Arya launched herself into Brienne’s side, a smile on her face.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”

Arya didn’t look like her mother, the girl had told her that herself, but in that smile, she saw Catelyn’s face once again. Her heart burst a little as she knelt and hugged Arya back.

**July 2018**

He showed the pamphlet to Brienne, and she had to know what he was thinking, she must have seen the haunted look in his eyes. It was her idea to go, to see what they were about before asking the crown to shut them down.

She had looked so sad when he booked the tickets, like she expected nothing else of him. 

He felt the anger from that moment rise in him, but he smashed it down again. He had to get through this first, talk to these loons and shut down their scam.

He knocked on the door with too much force, the sound his hand made boomed down the hotel hallway.

A woman opened the door, a woman with long red hair, a red dress, a ruby pendant on her throat.

“Melisandre,” she said as she held out her hand.

Jaime had this urge to take her hand and kiss it, like they were playacting a period piece, she was theatrical to the nth degree, but he shook it instead.

“Jaime Lannister.”

“I was hoping you would come,” she said. “I was hoping we could help you.”

She showed him in and led him to a desk. She gestured to the chair and he sat down in front of a small laptop.

“Watch this video first, and then I can take your questions.”

He clicked on the laptop a soft voice greeted him as he saw a picture of Earth in space.

“What happened on Departure Day?”

The picture zoomed into the ocean, a spot just off the main island of the Southern Isles, and he saw a column of water shoot up from the ocean, a geyser where there should be only water.

“That was the world split in two. They are over there, and in this one spot, you can reach them.”

It switched now to a video of a naked man jumping into the water from the cliff top. He landed in the water, and he didn’t resurface, he didn’t come back.

“This man crossed over, this man got his loved one back.”

The video faded to back and the red woman, he couldn’t remember her name, closed the laptop.

“You killed a man,” Jaime said, even now not quite believing what he saw.

“No, we freed him,” she said. “He’s free of the pain and grief. He’s at peace.”

She smiled at him, and Jaime wanted to call her a crook, to storm out of here and never look back, but he had to know.

“How do you know?”

She walked across the room and held out a file to him. “These are all the reports of bodies found in that ocean for the last 2 years.”

She pulled out another paper. “And here’s a list of every person who has found peace. There are no overlaps.”

She pulled up the laptop again, opened a file of pictures. She scrolled through picture after picture, people holding up newspapers in one hand and their ID cards in the other. 

“There are videos too, if you’re interested. But know that not one of these people was coerced into jumping. It’s a choice.”

He kept scrolling and scrolling, until he stopped and his breath caught on the name Seaworth, an older woman with sad eyes. One more click, and he knew what he would see, and he was right, there were Seaworth’s kind eyes, and a smile that Jaime had never seen. His chest clenched as the thought hit him that he would never see him again.

_ He’s home _

He felt this heaviness inside him then, and he wanted to sleep, right then and there, even in front of this off-putting woman with her zealot’s gaze.

“If you want to be free, follow these instructions and meet us here tomorrow for the next step.”

She handed him a paper. Without another word, she headed to the door.

He had so many questions, but he could not voice any of them.

_ Could I see them? _

_ Talk to them? _

_ Do they miss me? _

He said nothing, and left his questions with her, clutching the paper in his sweaty hand, gripping it too tightly, terrified it would float away.

**July 2018**

They weren’t talking about it.

He had told her what they’d said, what he’d seen, and she’d nodded, again, and smiled sadly, again.

_ She won’t look at me _

He wasn’t going to go, he told himself, even if he wouldn’t say that to her. 

_ She should know I won’t leave her _

_ But she didn’t know _

He was trying to sleep, he had to get up early, their meeting place was far away and the time was early, but still, he could not quiet the voice in his head.

_ She should know _

He watched her in the dark, her body in the perfect rhythm of sleep. 

He poked her, and kept poking her until she woke up to look at him. She couldn’t see the anger in his eyes, but he felt the heat in his words as she turned to face him.

“I’m not going,” he seethed. “I’m not.”

She reached up, stroked his face and rubbed his cheek with her thumb, just the way he liked.

She kissed him, forcefully, like the first time, like she was steeling herself for battle. She was on top of him in a flash, and his body responded, his anger fueling his desire.

She rode him with a desperation he’d never felt before, and he felt something break in him as he matched her rhythm, thrusting into her again and again. 

_ She thinks this is the last time _

He sat up, holding her to his chest, burying his face into her shoulder.

“I’m not going,” he whispered.

She stopped moving them, grabbed his face, looked at him in dark, seeing nothing, but as he hoped, seeing everything. 

“I love you,” she said. “I love you.”

He kissed her, trying to drown in her, trying to escape from the call of home.

**July 2018**

He looked over the cliff.

He wasn’t afraid of heights, never had been. As children, he and Cersei would jump off the cliffs near their summer home as Tyrion would cheer for them from the beach, and he loved that feeling of falling, that delicious anticipation for what would come next.

But as he looked down, he had to look away.

These cliffs offered no ‘next.’ Water landing or no, they only offered death.

He looked back at Melisandre and her assistant, what was here name? Missandei, that’s right, and she smiled at him as she watched the young woman pull a body out of her trunk. 

Jaime blinked, and of course, he saw it wasn’t a real body, it was a dummy, one of those you could buy to bury your departed loved one if you needed to.

_ Another scam that should have been shut down _

Missandei approached him with her hand out.

“Your letter?”

He was allowed one letter to his family for this experiment, one note to the family that was stolen from him nearly six years ago.

He’d considered each of them, but even his nephew, who would be 14 this year, could not edge out the little brother he missed more than any of them.

_ Tyrion, _

_ I miss you. _

_ If you read this, know that I have never stopped missing you. _

_ I’ve met your daughter. Her name is Freya, and she looks like her mother but at 5 talks like a professor. She has our mother’s eyes, and her mother’s kindness. _

_ She is the best parts of all of us. _

_ Love, _

_ Jaime _

He couldn’t write more, couldn’t bear to say only a hello to his missing family. 

He handed her his letter, and he felt relieved it was out of his hands. He’d addressed it as they had requested, just in case this wasn’t just a scam.

_ It is, it is just a scam _

The letter was put in a plastic baggie and shoved down the dummies throat. Jaime grimaced, but it was only plastic, no matter how lifelike it looked.

“You’ll see Mr. Lannister, “ Melisandre said. “You’ll see we're telling you the truth.”

The woman walked to the edge and when an alarm rang from their pockets, without ceremony they heaved the dummy over the edge.

Jaime stepped to the edge and watched the dummy, taking the binoculars Missandei offered him.

She pointed below. 

“There’s a current, twice a day, at 7:15, for one minute there’s a force that will suck in anything that’s there.”

Jaime watched the body, and as she said, the dummy was pulled below the water, there and gone in a few seconds.

_ That could be me _

He shuddered at the thought of being trapped in the dark with no light or no air.

“If it works, why haven’t you gone?” he asked them.

Missandei smiled and grabbed the other woman’s hand.

“Everything I want is here,” she said softly, as she kissed Melisandre.

Melisandre smiled at Jaime and he smiled back.

He turned back to the ocean, but there was no sign of the body.

“You’ll never see it again,” Melisandre said. “It’s gone home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both the show and the book deal with the cult The Guilty Remnant, and I did consider putting that into this story, but I just didn't see a good way to insert that into the story, but in my head, I do think Selyse, Stannis' wife, would totally have joined that shitty cult - You can't talk, cold showers twice a day, only eat mush and you have to smoke and wear white all the time. I don't see the appeal, but that's just me.
> 
> My original idea was to have Myrcella consider joining, until Robert moves her and Joffrey to Essos, where it's legal to kill the GR members if they're harassing you, but that felt too dark, and even thinking back, I'm glad it never got past the idea phase.


	9. You're My Only Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> Chapter title comes from "You're My Only Home" by The Magnetic Fields. It's only of my favorite songs from them, even if it's about devotion that is not necessarily returned. But, it does have a couple of verses that really remind me of Jaime and Brienne.
> 
> "I will stay if you let me stay  
And I'll go if you let me go  
But I won't go far away  
Because you're my only home
> 
> I will hide what you want hidden  
And I'll roam if you say roam  
But I'd just as soon you didn't  
Because you're my only home"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end of the road here; I'll post the snippets tomorrow, but this is the end end of the story.
> 
> Thank you so much for making it this far and for all the comments and kudos along the way. This meant a lot to me, and it more or less turned out how I wanted it to, so yes, I'm very proud of this little fic.
> 
> I'm albatrossisland on tumblr if you'd like to follow me for more Braime fun.

**July 2018**

He came back to their room, and she hadn’t left.

She was on her laptop, silently crying at the screen as he came in.

She looked up at him, her face blotchy and red.

And she said nothing, just went to the bathroom to clean herself up.

“The money they charge is to pay for the dummy body for the test run,” he said to the closed door. “They said it was the best way to send a message through.”

She came out then, her face looked better, but paler. She nodded at him, and still said nothing.

“I think we have enough info to give to the authorities. We can go home tomorrow and start the process of shutting them down.”

“Right,” she said.

He glared at her, but her back was to him so she couldn’t see.

“Right,” he seethed, not bothering to cover the bite in his words.

She turned to him, the glare in her eyes matching his. “Do you still want to?”

“Want to?” he nearly spat the words at her.

“Shut them down,” she said as her voice dropped.

“They're frauds,” he said. “They’re scamming poor bastards who’ve had their hearts ripped out."

_ Like me _

"They’re killing people with their scam. They need to be stopped.”

_ Do they? _

He was saying the right words, he might have been believed them, but she still wouldn’t look at him directly. 

_ What is she thinking? _

Brienne sighed.

“From what you’ve told me, they don’t encourage people to do this. The money they pay is for a good that could be reclaimed. The victims even leave video stating they are doing this of their own wills. I don’t know what the crown could do, they’ve covered their tracks well.”

She opened the blinds, looking at the sea beneath them.

“And if you say you’re not interested, they leave you alone. They’re not harmless, but as for a scam, people have a right to be scammed, that’s what the law says.”

She had no life in her words. Even her eyes were a dull color, the spark drained out of them.

But as he sat with her words, he heard them too.

“How do you know that?” he asked, his voice so small. “That they’ll leave you alone?”

Still with her back to him, she stiffened. “Charlotte,” she said. “She told me they contacted her and she told them to fuck off, and they did.”

Her shoulders were still tight, her muscles still tensed, she was hiding something, he knew her well enough to know that.

_ What would you have to hide? _

“She told you that? Just out of the blue, that came up?”

She turned to him, eyes at the floor.

“No,” she said. “I saw the pamphlet and asked her if she’d gotten one.”

_ I’m almost there _

“When did that happen?”

He asked the question, and she would answer, he knew it, but he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t need the answer, but she was here, doubting him, and he needed to know why.

“A month ago.”

And it clicked.

He had expected resistance from Melisandre when he’s emailed, when he’d set up the appointment, he was not the Lannister they’d contacted. But she’d smiled, she’d known him, she had expected him to come to her.

_ Brienne had too _

“You hid that from me?” he said, his voice too calm, too controlled for the whirlwind rushing through his brain.

She stood up straight, looked him straight on, at long last, her secret was out.

“I did,” she said, her voice steady and clear now. “I didn’t want you to see it.”

_ You didn’t want me to see _

“You hid this from me?” he shouted at her, but he wanted to scream instead, and shake her until she started making sense.

“I didn’t want…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked down again.

“Say it.” He had his father’s voice them, hard and cold, the voice Tywin used for the ones he supposedly loved.

“I didn’t want you to leave.”

It was always that, it all came back to that with her. He could promise her the world, a future, his very body and heart and soul, and she would never take him at his word that they were already hers.

He felt an urge to grab something, to hurl it across the room, to smash something, to destroy something smaller than him, but the fight went out of him as fast as the thought did.

“They’re my family,” he said, the resignation in his voice startling even himself. “You had no right to keep them from me.”

She said nothing, once again, staying silent when she should be shouting.

“Say something!” he yelled at her. He hated yelling, even as a child raised voices would lead to tears, and here he was, yelling at the woman he loved.

“No,” she said. 

She sat on the bed, looking out the window, looking away from him, turning her entire life away from him.

He sat on the bed, his back to her back.

“Why not?”

“What do you want me to say? I hid it from you, because I wanted to stay with me. I didn’t want this to happen, but now it is.”

“Nothing is happening!” His scream echoed in the room, enveloping both of them, trapping them in his anger.

He exhaled for a minute, and she spoke.

“You keep saying that, that you’re not going, you’re not leaving, but you keep going back there. You updated your will before we left, you said goodbye to Genna and Kevan and Robert and his kids, you even checked in on Robb Stark’s rehab progress.”

She stood up, and he could feel her eyes on him.

“You want to go, you want a grand adventure, and I won’t be the one standing in your way, but don’t expect me to behave like you would.”

He had done all that, but he told himself that those were the proper precautions to take before traveling, it made sense to have everything in order if you were crossing an ocean. And he’d been meaning to do all of that for ages anyway, it made sense.

_ You want to go _

He felt a tug in his chest, her words like an arrow straight to the heart, and he knew she struck true. 

_ I don’t want to go _

“I don’t want to,” he said, as he felt the tug again. It was Cersei, Tyrion, Tywin, all of them, tugging him back to them, pulling him home.

_ But I need to _

No, that wasn’t right, he told himself. I don’t need them, I never needed them. I miss them, I love them, every rotten one of them, but I don’t need them.

_ I need you _

_ I need you to believe me. _

He looked at her, and she was already crying, silent tears dripping down her face. 

_ To her, I’m already gone _

“I can’t do this,” he said as he stood up and headed to the door. “You sit there as if I’ve already left you, you don’t even try to convince me to stay, you accept the worst from me because you don’t expect better.”

He felt a stab in his heart this time as she cried harder, still saying nothing to defend herself or to correct him.

“I’m not those assholes Brienne, and I have never once given you any reason to think I am. And if you can’t see that…”

For once, he didn’t have the words. They failed him as she turned to him, her eyes red and blue and wounded.

His hand reached for the door, and he opened it, knowing that he could never take this back.

“You said you would never leave,” she said, her voice cracking on the words, his words.

He didn’t turn back to her.

“You never believed me.”

He heard her sob as he closed the door behind him.

**July 2018**

She clutched her chest as the door slammed.

_ He left _

It’s what she expected. She played with the ring on her finger, the ring he had given her after she ran from him, from those memories, as he caught up to her, kept her in place, gave her a reason to stand still for once.

_ He left _

She heard his footsteps in the hallway, his angry stomps on the carpet still echoing in her mind.

_ I let him leave _

The thought hit her and her knees wobbled, she had to sit down as she started getting dizzy.

_ I couldn’t have stopped him _

She replayed it in her head. He wanted to go, she knew he did, she didn’t give him permission, but she knew she wouldn’t try to stop him.

_ Could I have stopped him? _

She lay there as the sun crossed the sky, focused on that question, that simple question that meant everything all at once.

_ Could I have stopped him? _

_ Could I have stopped him? _

_ Why didn't I try? _

She sat up.

She’d had no idea how long he had been gone. Her heart fluttered, because she knew where he was going.

_ He’ll leave me there. _

She wanted to believe him, that if given a choice, he would pick her, that he would love her best, but they were his family. His home had been stolen from him, and she could never replace that.

_ But I can say goodbye. _

Not to him, not out loud, but she could know, finally, that she wasn’t for him, that he wasn’t for her.

More tears fell as she got up. She called a cab to take her to the cliff.

_ I’ll say goodbye and heal myself later. _

**July 2018**

He drove and drove and he ended up here, the cliff that leads home.

_ I don’t want to go _

He had to remind himself of that. He wanted them back, but he didn’t want to die, and as he looked over the edge again, that’s all he saw.

The end of the world was over that cliff, and he didn’t want it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he hoped it was Brienne, calling him back to her, but he knew better than that.

_ She’d never ask him for that. _

Instead, he saw Genna’s name flash on the screen.

“Genna?” he asked. It was close to midnight at home, too late for her to be up.

“Jaime,” she said, her voice choking on his name. He held his breath as he fought the urge to throw his phone in the ocean.

“What happened?” he whispered. 

“Joffrey’s dead.”

She told him what had happened, the dumbass had gotten behind the wheel drunk, wrapped his car around a tree. He’d died quickly, she said, he never knew what happened.

“Robert and Myrcella are with Kevan. Your uncle is afraid he’ll drink himself to death without supervision, and I think he’s right. I’m going over to relieve Kevan in the morning.”

She sounded so old right then, like her very life force was leaving her body through her voice.

“I’m so tired Jaime.”

She whispered those words, then hung up on him.

He sat with her words for a minute as he felt the pressure build up in his chest. He held it in, held it back as much as he could, until he felt it burst within him.

All that pain and rage, all of it flowed over his insides, he could feel it seeping into his bones, settling in places where he would never be free of it.

_ I’m tired too _

He looked at his phone. It was almost 7.

_ I can leave this behind me. I can turn off this pain for good, and be done with this awful world. I can tell Cersei her son is dead and be there for her while she cries. _

He remembered what the red woman had told him. He was being reborn, it was a second chance with his family.

He set the alarm on his phone as he undressed. Someone would find it and send it back to Brienne and she would know, she’d have the joy of knowing she’d been right.

He was ready when the alarm buzzed.

The rocks on the cliff hurt his feet, but they didn’t matter, he was primed, crouched, ready to run, ready to jump.

He closed his eyes, and he saw her, smiling, that soft little smile she gives him, that’s only for him, because she only does it when she’s trying not to smile.

He opened his eyes and looked up, and in the sunset, he saw her eyes, felt her warmth around him when he wakes up from a nightmare.

His alarm was frantic now, urging him on, but he stood up instead.

_ I chose _

_ She’s gone _

_ I’ll be gone now too _

He jumped as he ran, getting his knees ready, and he heard his name, the wind playing tricks on him.

“Jaime,” it cried, “Jaime” it screamed, and he turned back and saw her, running toward him.

**July 2018**

She watched him undress, and her heart ached at the sight of him, the man she loved running away from her.

She started crying as he crouched, ready to leap into the unknown.

She wanted to walk away when the alarm sounded, she changed her mind, she couldn’t watch him leave her and do nothing.

So she stayed. 

And she saw him jump up and run into the unknown, and without another thought, she ran after him.

Her heart was bursting, filled with fear and pain, but she pushed forward, yelling his name.

He stopped, his feet coming to a stop before the edge.

She held her chest as he looked back at her, his face filled with pain and grief, and she almost turned away.

_ I can brave like you _

She heard the old line in her head, and she felt its truth. 

His alarm was still buzzing, there was still time, she had just one chance.

“Stay stay stay,” she whispered, their song on her lips, the song on the wind.

“Stay stay stay,” he sang back.

He turned back to the water, and he stared at it while his alarm stopped.

_ He didn’t leave _

He crumpled to the ground, his legs giving out as he scuffed his knees on dirt and rocks.

She slowly walked to him, sat down beside him, her legs dangling over the edge and he crawled into her lap, holding her while he cried and she stroked his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to, I didn’t, and then I just, I just wanted this to stop.”

“But you didn’t,” she said. “You stayed, you stayed with me, you chose.”

_ You chose me. _

“Joffrey’s dead,” he whispered. “The idiot kid is dead, and because of a twist of fate, I can’t tell my sister her son is gone, and I just want to scream.”

He was shaking as she held him tighter before pulling back from him.

“So do it,” she said. 

He looked at her as he wiped the tears from his face. 

“We’re at the end of the world,” she said she looked out at the ocean. “We’re at the end of the fucking world, and your nephew is dead. Scream your head off.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. She threw back her head and screamed as she squeezed his hand. He joined her, his voice a roar to match her fury.

When his voice ran out, he looked at her and smiled, a joyless smile but a sincere one. 

“I won’t leave,” he said.

She smiled at him, she knew the truth now.

“I know.”

She looked down at the water and her face fell.

“They’re my family,” he said as his gaze followed hers. “But you’re my home.”

She teared up as he reached for her, holding her again, holding her forever and ever.

**First date**

He looked at his watch, and it’s been four hours.

He looked over and for the first time sees the waiters have cleared the other tables, the other guests are gone.

“We should go,” he said, and she blushed as she saw they were alone.

He paid the bill, and left a generous tip for all of the staff, they’d given them everything he’d asked for.

He walked her to her car, and he fought down the urge to kiss her, to hold her to his chest and never let go.

Instead, he held out his hand, and she took it, her warmth doing it’s best to seep into him.

“Thank you,” she said. 

He heard Catelyn saying the same words to him, an unwelcome reminder of another woman he couldn’t keep.

_ But she is not Catelyn _

“Can I ask you one last question?” he said as he leaned against her car.

She rolled her eyes a bit, but nodded, the smile plain on her face. “If you must.”

“Why did you take me home that night?”

She looked at him, her eyes softening, her smile drooping. She tucked his hair behind his ear before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“That’s between me and the ocean.”

She got into her car and drove away without another word.

_ This can’t be goodbye _

He told himself that as he climbed into his car. 

_ I won’t accept that. _

_ I won’t. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more trivia!
> 
> I never considered killing Robb Stark; but it did take me a couple of times to figure out to let the reader know he was still alive.
> 
> Joffrey's death was a surprise, because I felt I needed a catalyst for Jaime's decision making at the end, and that would do it.
> 
> Catelyn's last scene - that hurt a bit to write, but I loved it to. She has just found out she's dying, she's quit her job, and she doesn't want to talk about it, but all that pain keeps spilling out anyway. I love her so much. 
> 
> Per the last update, the references - "Why did you become a cop?" "I don't remember" is from a pivotal scene in LA Confidential. And "You'll never see it again" - The Master says that to Darla (about the sun) before he turns her.


	10. Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include these, just some happy moments of our couple, just caring for each other and being in love, but since I was already cutting up the first date into the narrative, it felt like overkill to do the same with the snippets.
> 
> So, have them all at once now. And if you want to imagine these take place after the fic is over, or before, have at it.

_ Ow ow ow _

“This will hurt, but it will release some of the tightness in your muscles,” she said as she kneeded her hands into his muscles.

_ Ow ow ow _

“It’s ok,” he said between breaths. “I’ll just suffer with it, it’s fine.”

She stopped for a minute and lightly kissed him on his head.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I suggest you get some help moving your furniture around.”

She kissed him again, then went back to working on his lower back, which had been in agony for a day now.

_ Ow ow ow _

“You win,” he said. “I’ll never do anything so foolish again.” He grimaced when she hit his sore muscle, but it felt better too, as she worked out the pain.

She scoffed as his words, but kept up her gentle massage. “Until next time.”

He smiled, even as she hit another patch of sore. “Until next time.”

***

“Which team are we rooting for again?” Brienne asked him, looking over at him. She held her breath as she saw the look of pure joy on his face as he watched the players on the field.

“Neither, these teams don’t matter to me.” He looked at her and smiled, and she noticed the scowls from the people around them, but she didn’t say anything.

He pointed to a man on third base. “See that guy, number 12? If he hits a home run today, he’ll hit 3,000 career home runs.”

His face lit up again as he pointed to the player at bat. “And that guy is a pitcher. If he strikes out two players today, he’ll best his record from last year, which was pretty impressive for someone who’s been pitching for 12 years.”

She leaned over and kissed him, right there in front of the crowd and the players.

He looked startled, but then he smiled at her and kissed her again, ignoring everything else.

***

He grabbed her hand.

She nearly pulled away from him, it was such a surprise. Hyle had never wanted to touch her in public, she could see that now. Embarrassment or contempt, it didn’t matter, he didn’t want to, and she never forced the issue.

But here, like it was nothing, this half-god, half-man, grabbed her hand and squeezed as they walked down the street together.

She blushed, she couldn’t help it, but he didn’t see as he guided them onward.

***

“Look at that sunset,” she said, as golden rays lit up the sky as the sun sank below the mountains.

He hadn’t made it yet. His breathing was heavy, it’s been too long since he’d done anything strenuous.

_ He’d other things to worry about. _

She took out her phone, took some more pictures she didn’t need, or even want, to give him time to catch his breath, to catch up to her.

“Hell of a view,” he said between wheezes.

He clutched his side, but he was smiling at her. She snapped a quick pic of him, a reminder for later that he was still human.

“How much longer to the top?” he asked.

She grimaced.

“Another 20 minutes,” she said. “We could turn back though. If you want.”

He took a deep breath but shook his head. “We’re here, and I came to see some spectacular,” he said as grinned at her. “Not backing down now.”

She reached for his hand and he held on, following her up and up and up, as high as she wanted to go, he would follow.

***

He reached for her hand in the theater.

He’d wanted to see this movie, a film about a serial killer stalking the families of departure victims. She didn’t much like horror films, and she found the subject matter distasteful, but there was not much else she was interested in, and it was his turn to pick the movie.

As the killer jumped on the screen, he squeezed her hand, helping her heart settle down.

He leaned over to her. “I saw it already, so I would know when to comfort you.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she imagined he was smiling at her, with a devilish grin and knowing look in his eye.

“If you’ve seen it already, why did I have to?”

“It was my turn to pick.” He handed her the popcorn, and she couldn’t help but smile.

***

“Back in bed Officer Tarth.”

Her feet were nearly on the floor when she heard his voice. With a scowl, she pulled her legs back into bed, fuming to herself at this treatment.

“I was getting a glass of water,” she said. “I’m thirsty.”

He loomed over her, his arms crossed but a playful look on his face.

“If you need water, ask me to get you some,” he said. “If you need food, I’ll bring it to you. You are under orders to stay in bed.”

“It’s a muscle pull!” she yelled as he pulled the blanket over her.

“It’s muscle pulls,” he said flatly. “You decided to chase a suspect down an alley, pushing yourself too far and you slipped on some ice and bruised yourself mightily before catching him.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head as she crossed her arms petulantly. 

“I’ll get you your water, but you’re staying put.”

“Yes warden,” she muttered and he smirked.

“Now we understand each other.”

***

“Who is that?” he said he sank next to her on the couch.

“Amelia’s sister,” Brienne said, not looking at him.

“Isn’t she dead?” he said, not even trying to keep the confusion out of his voice.

“Different sister,” she said. “And she’s not dead, just missing. Shhhh.”

He watched that scene, where this not-dead sister was trying to reconnect with her old friend, until a man came in, silencing them both.

“Who’s that?”

In a huff, Brienne grabbed the remote and paused the show. With a fury in her eyes, she turned to him. “Listen, if you want to know the ins and outs of these characters and their relationships, I will gladly explain them to you. After the episode.”

She stared at him, those eyes boring into him until he blinked and looked down. 

She huffed and started the show again.

“But, who is that?” he whispered. 

He was still smiling as she threw a throw pillow at him, spilling her popcorn all over the couch. She just shook her head at the sight of him, covered in popcorn and grinning madly at her.

“I love you,” he whispered through his laughter. He reached for her and kissed her, her show forgotten in his embrace.


End file.
